


A Three-Ring Wedding

by LerxstInSpace



Series: Contingency Plan-verse Good++ Ending [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam's family is great, Altean Culture (Voltron), Coran (Voltron) Being Coran, Cuddling & Snuggling, Curtis' family is great, Monsters & Mana (Voltron), Multi, Past Character Death (He Got Better), Polyamory, Shiro's parents are not great but trying, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 39,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerxstInSpace/pseuds/LerxstInSpace
Summary: The universe is a big place full of all kinds of people and ways of life and someday a line will probably have to be drawn, Mark says. But in this specific case concerning three consenting grown-ass adult Earth human people, all of whom already live under the same roof, two of whom are already married, the third of whom was engaged to one of them at one point and might as well have been engaged to the other at another point (Curtis said he and Adam never got around to talking about actually getting married and Adam backed that up, but they were living together so it’s close enough for Garrison work)...Based on the letter of the law as it’s written, on legal precedent, and on the particulars of this situation, Mark believes that it is astronomically unlikely that anyone whose opinion matters is going to decide that this is the hill they want to die on.(In which Shiro, Adam, and Curtis get polyhitched on Altea and shenanigans ensue, many of which are Coran-related)
Relationships: Adam/Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Contingency Plan-verse Good++ Ending [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1385737
Comments: 34
Kudos: 25





	1. Prologue

“...and here’s one from one of your third-year seniors begging for an extension on his research paper, not the one you told me to shoot down.”

“Huh. He never needs...  _ huh. _ Okay. Remind me to check in on him tomorrow, something’s up. Anything else?”

“One from Commander Pham at Legal...” Shiro’s aide raises an eyebrow. “He says he’d like to talk to you if you’re free after work. Oh God. What did you do now?”

Shiro can’t quite stop a slow grin from spreading across his face. “Nothing. ...yet.”

* * *

_ Hey, come get Adam when you get off, you two go ahead and do dinner w/o me. I already told him what’s up, he’ll be in his office. _

_ Everything OK? _

_ Yeah, just gonna go have a beer or 2 w/Mark and talk about some stuff. _

_ Which Mark? The one at Legal? What did you do!? _

_ Why does everyone keep asking me that!?  _

_ Because we know you, babe. ♥ _

_ Smartass. He’s been looking into some stuff for us, hopefully he’s got good news :) _

_ Oh, THAT stuff! Tell us when you get home? _

_ Of course. Love you. ♥ _

_ Love you too. ♥ _

* * *

The short version: untested so far but theoretically it should work.

The long version:

Well... about half of his old academy buddy’s “long version” just sort of goes in one of Shiro’s ears and out the other. There’s a lot of legal jargon, which Mark tries to break down into human-people words with varying degrees of success. He cites a few cases, one or two of which Shiro remembers hearing about. There’s one where a maintenance tech on the  _ Atlas  _ married her off-world boyfriend on his home planet. There’s another where two human officers decided it would be fun to get married at some quickie wedding chapel thing that popped up in the Space Mall a while back, kind of a space version of those drive-through things in Vegas.

The Garrison didn’t bat an eye in either case, didn’t give any of them a bit of grief because it was long past giving one (1) single solitary fuck about processing a name change on an ID because of a space wedding. The state and federal governments, on the other hand, gave a great many fucks about this. They put up a fight about the validity of the marriages, the couples fought back and won, and the end result was the very law--and the potential loophole--they’re talking about right now. The one that says a marriage that’s performed off-world and is legally recognized where it’s done has to be legally recognized back here.

The question here is: if three consenting grown-ass adult Earth human people in a polyamorous relationship were to get legally married on a planet where that was a thing, is that arrangement going to be recognized on Earth just as a plain old vanilla two-party marriage would?

Mark says it should. Absolutely nowhere in the language of the law is there any kind of cap on the number of spouses. Sure, this is Earth and people tend to see the word “marriage” and assume it means “two people” but the law does not say that in so many words and that’s what matters. So, at least in theory, this should work. Shiro is not a lawyer--that  _ is _ why he’s sitting here in a wings-and-sportsball joint having a beer with one, after all--but he figured that might be the case and he’s glad to hear it from someone who knows what they’re talking about.

The universe is a big place full of all kinds of people and ways of life and someday a line will probably have to be drawn, Mark says. But in this specific case concerning three consenting grown-ass adult Earth human people, all of whom already live under the same roof, two of whom are already married, the third of whom was engaged to one of them at one point and might as well have been engaged to the other at another point (Curtis said he and Adam never got around to talking about actually getting married and Adam backed that up, but they were living together so it’s close enough for Garrison work)...

Based on the letter of the law as it’s written, on legal precedent, and on the particulars of this situation, Mark believes that it is astronomically unlikely that anyone whose opinion matters is going to decide that this is the hill they want to die on. 

And furthermore, Mark goes on (and Shiro didn’t hear this part from him, of course) the Garrison will  _ definitely _ not give them any grief on this and will in fact likely go out of its way to be as accommodating as possible and gladly provide whatever legal assistance Shiro and his husbands might need in the astronomically unlikely event that someone whose opinion matters  _ does  _ decide that this is the hill they want to die on. Mostly because the Garrison is  _ still to this day  _ catching occasional bits of hell from the media over a number of Sanda’s shitty decisions, and the absolute last thing they want is another PR catastrophe that has anything whatsoever to do with Shiro or Adam.

There is, of course, one catch.

The catch is exactly what Shiro figured it would be, and he’s got a plan for it. 

Sort of.

* * *

“I can’t believe you actually had Legal looking into this,” Adam laughs when Shiro gives them the short version later that night. 

“Well, not  _ Legal,  _ just Mark but--”

“And he thinks it’s going to work,” Curtis prompts. 

“From what he was telling me? It should hold up, yeah. All the law says is, it has to be legit on the planet where it’s done.” Shiro clears his throat. “Which brings me to, uh... it has to be done on that planet.”

“Uh huh.” Adam reaches for the popcorn bowl. “And do you know of a planet where we can do that?”

“I think so.” Curtis hands Adam the bowl. “Altea?”

“Yeah. Altea’s probably going to be our best shot, if they’ll let us. I’ll have to, uh...” Shiro grimaces just a little as he thinks about what exactly it is he’ll have to do. 

Okay. Maybe he doesn’t  _ have  _ to do this. Maybe he could try and talk to some of the other Alteans he knows instead, maybe even the transplanted ones. Lance might know a little about tri-bonding policy and procedure, he’s been on Altea long enough to know how stuff works or at least know who to ask. Romelle might know something. Hell, he could even try and get hold of Tavo, obviously  _ he  _ knows something about how to get the tri-bonding ball rolling, he’d have to, he painted that picture... but no. 

No, he’s going to have to talk to Coran about this.

Which, in and of itself, isn’t a problem. Shiro loves Coran, of course he does, you either love Coran or you’re wrong. And he’s the only person Shiro personally knows who has the authority to officiate a tri-bonding, and he’s going to know exactly what that would entail from the legal nuts and bolts to securing a venue to actually planning the ceremony. 

But the last time Shiro and Coran talked about the whole tri-bonding thing, it didn’t end well. At that point, Shiro was neck-deep in denial and he spent every second of that conversation wishing he hadn’t started it. He doesn’t think Coran picked up on exactly why that conversation made him so uncomfortable, he doesn’t think Coran even did enough math to figure out that the conversation  _ was  _ what made him so uncomfortable, maybe he just figured Shiro had gotten a little too much nunvill in him. But it ended with Shiro hastily excusing himself and running off to the men’s room to try and make his mind stop going places he thought at the time it had no business going. And now, knowing what he knows about what was happening in his head and his heart, Shiro feels like he owes Coran an apology for bailing out the way he did. He definitely doesn’t feel right about just calling the man up out of the blue and bombarding him with tri-bonding questions.

Well... at least he’ll have the chance to do it in person in a couple of months.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if both of them are relaxed and having a good time, Curtis is happy too. They’re fine. They’re all fine. But now that there’s a lull in the game action and nothing to do but shoot the breeze, Curtis is starting to notice that someone IS acting a little weird.
> 
> Coran.
> 
> Okay. Sure. It’s Coran. He’s always been half a bubble off level but this is different. He’s sitting there listening to Adam like every word that comes out of his mouth is deep-fried gold dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with chocolate. He keeps asking some... maybe kind of borderline overly-personal questions? Nothing too embarrassing, nothing Adam doesn’t just take in stride but... come to think of it, he’s been acting a little weird ever since Takashi introduced Adam to him as their tri-mate. There was that whole thing with the room, and then they came back down here and they settled in with their food and game stuff and the first thing he asked them was “how long have you been tri-bonded” and he looked absolutely scandalized when Takashi told him they weren’t yet...

Adam knows they’re going on a space vacation well in advance. 

Adam knows this is a thing Takashi and Curtis do every year (more or less; obviously the Altean calendar doesn’t sync up with the Earth calendar but it’s close enough for Garrison work). He’s known that pretty much since he moved in. He’s known ever since he noticed the series of pictures on the wall on either side of the fireplace, of Takashi and Keith and their friends in front of that statue, the ones with Takashi giving a guy with a truly majestic mustache a pair of metal bunny ears, and asked what was up with that.

Adam knows Takashi is flying them to Altea in the Black Lion. And after everything Adam has heard about it, he is pumped as all hell about finally getting to see it in person. He’s even more pumped about getting to actually _ go for a ride in it. _

So, yes. Adam knows they’re going to take a trip sometime in the late summer and it’s going to be like no vacation he’s ever been on in his entire life. He gets that.

But he doesn’t even begin to wrap his brain around exactly what he’s in for until the morning they leave, while they’re packing the last of their stuff and Takashi sort of freezes in place with this faraway look in his eyes like he’s having a conversation with someone or something Adam and Curtis can’t see, and Curtis just looks up at him for a beat and then goes “oh, is it here?” and goes back to stuffing socks into his bag.

“Is what h--” Adam glances over at his frozen husband and drops a week’s worth of underwear on the floor. “What the _fuck, _Takashi!” His other husband picks the scattered boxers up without missing a beat and neatly tucks them into Adam’s suitcase as if this is no big deal, as if Takashi isn’t standing there staring off into space _with his goddamn eyes glowing purple! _

“Huh?” Takashi blinks and shakes his head, and just like that his eyes are back to normal. “Oh! Sorry! Yeah, it’s on the way.” He catches the look on Adam’s face and lets out a sheepish little laugh. “That was just the Black Lion letting me know it’s coming. I... guess I should have warned you about that, huh?”

Okay. Look.

Yes, Adam had some general idea that the robot lions that made up Voltron were sort of sentient. He also knew that when Takashi was ...dead (and that thought _ still _gives Adam the cold sweats) his consciousness was kind of stored inside the Black Lion, so they probably still have a pretty deep connection. 

So yeah, maybe he should have expected this whole weird glowy-eyes mind-meld thing Takashi just did. How else did he think Takashi was going to call it? A key fob? The phone? Signal mirror? Obviously he was just going to commune with it. Or whatever the hell he just did. _ Duh. _

Doesn’t make seeing it for the first time any less freaky, though.

* * *

Knowing how huge Voltron and its component parts are doesn’t make actually seeing the Black Lion in person for the first time any less awe-inspiring, either.

Adam knew the Lions were big. Obviously they were big, and Black would be the biggest, it’d have to be, but he’s standing there on the landing pad staring up at its paw and he’s trying not to think too much about whether or not this kind-of-sentient robot lion ship thing knows not to step on him. Shouldn’t there be some kind of security cordon or something? At least some signage warning of potential giant toe bean-related injury or death?

Adam is just starting to wonder how exactly they board it when it goes into motion all by itself and for the rest of his life he will stand by his expert assessment that the noise they all heard then was _ way _too high-pitched to have come out of him. In his defense, the Lion is bending its huge damn head down towards them and opening up its mouth, is it really unreasonable of him to think just for one hot second that it’s about to eat them?

But its jaw touches the ground and that’s it. It goes still and silent again. “There we go,” is all Takashi has to say about that, and he takes off walking _ right up into its mouth_. “C’mon.”

Curtis just follows Takashi up the walkway and... oh, hell. They are walking right into a giant robot lion’s _ mouth. _ With teeth and everything_. _Adam feels like he should be a lot more freaked out about that than he is. Strangely, once he actually sets foot on the walkway that is the Lion’s tongue, he stops worrying. This is still weird as hell and those wicked pointy shiny metal teeth all around him aren’t helping, but... it’s not going to hurt him. As soon as his foot lands in the Lion’s mouth, he knows it’s not going to hurt him.

Takashi says something about changing and heads up to what Adam guesses is the cockpit, and Curtis takes Adam to the cargo bay to stow their stuff. He starts to feel something strange then. Like the Lion is sort of checking him out. It’s weird, but it doesn’t feel invasive. It doesn’t feel like he’s being interrogated or anything like that. Adam gets the distinct impression that if he were to put up some resistance the Lion would respect that and leave him alone. But he can feel it sort of sniffing around the edges of his consciousness, light and curious.

Adam is sure it recognizes him, and that kind of unnerves him. Well... yeah, it probably recognizes him from Takashi’s thoughts and memories, but--

There’s a flash of an image, there and gone. Adam isn’t sure what it means. A fading mental afterimage superimposed over the real world, of his own hands encased in the same armor Takashi is wearing when he comes out of the cockpit. A weird but not unpleasant alien hum in his left arm. The phrase _ alternate reality bullshit _skittering across his mind in his own voice. 

And then the sight of Takashi in that armor registers, and he forgets all about it. 

Holy shit. Holy _ shit, _he looks good in that. Every single piece of that armor looks like it’s designed for the specific purpose of emphasizing all of his best features--his broad shoulders and chest, his powerful legs, his...

His, uh...

Okay. 

Maybe, Adam thinks, maybe he’s being a little ridiculous here. But in his defense his sex drive _ just _ came back online a few weeks ago after a dry spell that predates the goddamn Galra invasion by several days. He knows it’ll eventually settle down but for now it’s like the damn thing is trying to make up for lost time and he’s constantly one whiff of aftershave, one casual touch, one extra second of eye contact away from jumping Takashi in his office or climbing Curtis like a tree or both. It’s like being a teenager all over again. And seeing that expanse of very clingy undersuit between Takashi’s chest and thighs is filling Adam’s head with a lot of questions about how the hell one would go about getting Takashi _ out _of that armor. Also with the suspicion that Curtis knows the trick and would be perfectly happy to tell him, maybe even demonstrate for him...

It occurs to Adam that there must be some kind of cleverly hidden cup in that undersuit, kind of like he had in his Blade suit. There must be something in the crotch of that suit providing some kind of protection and some level of modesty, so that someone who hasn’t spent a huge chunk of their life seeing Takashi naked on a daily basis wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what was under that suit. Adam _ does _ know exactly what’s under that suit and cup or no cup, seeing it wrapped in alien Spandex like this is making his entire nervous system overheat. He must be making a noise or turning a color or both, because Curtis leans in and whispers “I know, right?” into his ear. Oh yeah. Curtis definitely knows how to get Takashi out of that armor and picturing that is _ not helping. _

Takashi sees him staring and gibbering and he breaks out into a big radiant grin, like he knows exactly what’s going on in Adam’s head right now. Hell, he probably does, it’s not like Adam is being subtle about this. “Hey, come on up here,” he says, waving Adam towards the cockpit. “You’re gonna love this.” And then he turns around and--_God. _Takashi’s ass is nice enough to begin with, but with that alien Spandex lifting and squishing in all the right ways and all the right places like it is...

“Oh, I’m already loving it,” Adam wheezes. Curtis just drops his head onto Adam’s shoulder and laughs. Adam eventually remembers how to make his feet work, thanks in part to Curtis nudging him forward, and they follow Takashi up to the cockpit.

It’s dark up there right now, though if he concentrates Adam can feel a lot of stuff going on below the surface. He doesn’t know what any of it is, but the Lion is definitely awake and ready to fly. When Takashi sits down in the pilot seat and puts his hands on the control sticks, the consoles and displays flare to life in a burst of purple and white light and maybe it’s just his imagination, but Adam swears he hears the Lion purr.

“Yeah,” Takashi says softly. “I missed you too.” 

Later, Adam will replay that in his mind, and he’ll realize there was a little bit of a shake in Takashi’s voice when he said that. For now, he watches Takashi set his phone on one of the consoles, watches the console light up under it, and can’t help laughing when something that sure as hell looks like a music player come up on the HUD. “Seriously? It’s got fucking _ Bluetooth!?” _

“Oh yeah, it can figure out how to connect to pretty much anything.” Takashi pulls up some kind of holographic screen over his left wrist and pokes on some controls there, and one of his road trip rock playlists starts up. “Okay. Everyone ready?”

“Uh...” Adam glances around the cockpit. There is only one seat and Takashi is in it. Curtis is leaning against the other side of that seat, his hand casually resting on Takashi’s shoulder. There is nowhere for either of them to sit up here. “Should we go buckle up somewhere, or...”

“You shouldn’t need to.” Takashi nudges the control sticks, and the low ambient hum of the Lion ramps up a little. “We’ll have gravity and we’re probably not going to make any sudden moves, but...” He flashes Adam another one of those disarming grins over his shoulder. “You could sit in my lap if you want. You both could, actually. Two thighs, no waiting?”

“Oh _ hell _ no.” Adam gives him a gentle swat on the shoulder as Curtis busts out laughing. “Not while you’re driving, mister.”

“You’re no fun,” Takashi sniffs, but the twinkle in his eyes as he eases the Lion into the air gives him away.

* * *

The first time Adam saw the inside of a wormhole was on the _ Atlas, _on his way home to Earth for the first time since the invasion. The wormhole was the coolest thing he’d ever seen... for about five minutes. 

The second time he saw the inside of a wormhole, he was flying Keith’s ship through it. And sure, he was feeling kind of low at that particular moment so maybe he wasn’t quite as stoked about it as he could have been, but by that point he was starting to get the distinct impression that if you’ve seen one wormhole, you’ve seen them all. 

This is Adam’s third trip through a wormhole and the novelty has definitely worn off. 

But he’s still having a good time. He still loves watching Takashi fly, and Takashi is having fun showing him all the things his Lion can do. Mostly, Adam is floored by how fast it is. Faster than Keith’s ship and even more agile. And, well... there’s that thing where it’s kind of mind-melding with them.

The Lion seems to like Adam. Takashi says he gets the feeling it might even let him fly it, but Adam doesn’t think this is the time or place to try. 

The flight to Altea is only a few hours by Lion and teludav, but the cockpit is not really engineered for the comfort of anyone other than the pilot. Curtis actually excuses himself to go blow up the air bed in the cargo bay a few minutes after they’re in the wormhole. Adam doesn’t blame him. There’s nowhere to sit except the pilot’s seat and the floor. He does take Takashi up on that invitation to sit in his lap, for a little while and that’s really nice at first, but the armor that looks so delectable on him turns out to be a very uncomfortable seat. It takes all of five minutes for Adam’s butt to fall asleep and there’s nowhere to put his head that isn’t encased in helmet or armor and the space between Takashi and his consoles and stuff is just a little too cramped for two pairs of legs to fit comfortably. He ends up sitting on the floor with his head on Takashi’s knee. That’s not much better. On top of that, the ambient noise in here is weirdly relaxing despite Takashi blasting his road trip music over it, and a little lie-down on a soft surface sounds like a great idea right now. 

“Would you be okay if I went back there with Curtis?” Adam finally asks. 

Takashi laughs softly and reaches down to ruffle his hair. “Go ahead, baby. I got this.” 

“Okay.” Adam braces a hand on Takashi’s armored thigh for leverage and hauls himself up off the floor. “You need a snack or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.” 

Adam gives Takashi a quick kiss and leaves him to it. 

He finds Curtis in the cargo bay stretched out on the air bed and playing on his phone, so he kicks off his shoes and flops down on the empty side. 

“Oh, hey.” Curtis puts his phone to sleep and tucks it away. “Having fun?”

“Yeah. This is _ badass,” _ Adam says, snuggling up against Curtis’ side. “Must be nice to have a ship that’ll just come right to you when you think about it. Does he ever come visit you on the _ Atlas _or make a Space Mall run just for the hell of it or anything?”

“Oh. Um...” Curtis is quiet for a moment. “Actually... this trip is the only time he flies it at all.”

“What!?” Adam picks his head up--Curtis doesn’t sound like he’s kidding, but... no, Curtis doesn’t _ look _like he’s kidding either. “You’re kidding,” he says anyway. Just to make sure.

“Nope.”

“Our adrenaline junkie husband has this alien hot rod _ literally _ at his beck and call, and he doesn’t even fly it?” This isn’t adding up. Sure, for most of the war Black was _ Keith’s _Lion but it was Takashi’s first, and he clearly still has a deep connection to it. Hell, he was part of it. Flying it should come as naturally to him as breathing. So... “Why not?”

“He, um... it makes him nervous. Especially if he's by himself.” Curtis says that in that distinct tone that means he thinks this is probably something Adam should know, but he’s not sure he should be the one to pass it on, but he knows Takashi is likely to just handwave it off. “The first time he tried it freaked him out pretty bad. He thinks it was mostly just because that was the first time he flew it since he... since he died in it.” Adam feels Curtis shudder against him, just a little, when he says that. “It brought back some stuff he didn’t want to remember.”

_ “Shit.” _ Adam feels something clench in his chest and he remembers one night a couple of weeks ago when Takashi woke up in a cold sweat, his fingers both metal and flesh frantically roaming over his own hair, his own face, his own chest and arms and legs, the bed, every part of Adam or Curtis that happened to be in range. And now all at once he understands why Takashi begged them to tell him they could see him, they could feel him, that he was alive and solid and _ real. _“Then--oh shit, what are we doing back here!? We need to get back up there, stay with him--”

“No, it’s okay--I mean, of course we can if you want, but--” Curtis gestures vaguely. “He says as long as we’re just on board with him, he’s okay.”

“Of course he says he’s okay!” And sure, he seemed pretty okay while Adam was up there, and according to Curtis he’s gotten a lot better about saying so when he _ isn’t _okay but... “Curtis, you know how he is!”

“I know, but--I don’t really know how it works or how to explain it but...” Curtis wraps that arm around Adam again and rubs his back. “He can feel us. As long as we’re here with him, he can feel us and he knows he’s safe. And it kind of goes both ways. You can feel him too, right?”

Now that Curtis mentions it... he can. The whole trip he’s felt like... well, he thinks it should be hard to describe but it really isn’t. It’s just the same connection he’s always felt with the brightness and color cranked up a little. He’d just chalked it up to the excitement of the trip and the quality time he spent up there in that cockpit with Takashi, but now... yeah. 

Adam closes his eyes and concentrates, and it’s definitely not his imagination. He can feel Takashi up there. It’s weird. He doesn’t get a clear visual of Takashi in the pilot’s seat, it’s more of a... sense of his consciousness? The images and sensations that flow through Adam’s mind when he thinks about Takashi are strange, but they make sense in a way he can’t really put into words. He tries to picture Takashi in that seat the way his eyes would see him and instead he gets the night sky, vast and dark, bright stars strewn from one horizon to the other like a scattered handful of diamonds. The constellations they form are none he’s ever seen in any sky he’s been under, but they’re still as familiar as the warmth against his back and the arm around his waist as he drifts off to sleep every night.

If he concentrates a little more, he can pick up echoes of what’s going through Takashi’s mind. It’s just like Curtis said. He’s a little tense in the shoulders and jaw and there’s some anxiety, but it’s not overpowering. It’s a low buzz in the background, barely loud enough to be noticeable. He’s nervous, sure. He might need a minute to unwind once they land. But he’s okay. And knowing that Takashi has a handle on his anxiety goes a long way towards relieving Adam’s.

He shifts his focus to see if he can feel Curtis like this too, and he gets another strange yet familiar image: water, clear and still, hidden deep within a thick evergreen forest, sparkling silver and blue where moonlight sneaks through the trees and lands on its glassy surface. 

“What do I feel like?” Adam whispers, and Curtis makes a soft little noise into the top of his head. He doesn’t answer, not out loud, but Adam gets another image. Warm sun on rich earth. That shade of late-summer orange he loves so much. The scent of cinnamon and under it, sage and sweetgrass and leather.

He feels the Lion sniffing around the back of his mind then, soft and gentle, keeping a respectful distance from anything too sensitive. “Curtis?”

“Hm?”

“Does it talk to you?”

“Um... not exactly?” Curtis runs his big warm hand down Adam’s spine and back up. “Kind of, but only when I’m actually inside it with Takashi like this, and it doesn’t really _ talk, _like... it doesn’t use words.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“But... yeah, sometimes it kind of shows me stuff.” Curtis presses a long, warm kiss to Adam’s temple and laughs a little. “Last year he had a song stuck in his head and I guess Black thought since he couldn’t stop thinking about it, it must be important, so...”

“Are you serious? It gave you his _ earworm!?” _

“Yyyyep. ...oh, is it talking to you too?”

“Yeah. Like you said. It doesn’t use words but... yeah. It feels like it already knows a lot about me, it’s just kind of trying to see for itself.”

“Sounds about right. He never stopped thinking about you, y’know.” Curtis nuzzles Adam’s forehead and twirls the end of his braid in his fingers. He doesn’t say it out loud, but Adam hears it anyway, as clearly as if he had: _ I didn’t either. _

Adam considers replying to that out loud, but instead he just wraps his arm tight around Curtis’ waist and hooks his foot behind one of Curtis’ calves and snuggles in tight against his chest. A sudden mischievous thought flashes across his mind as Curtis holds him close: if they were to get frisky back here, would Takashi feel it? Adam absolutely did not wake up this morning expecting his brain to toss the phrase _ psychic road head _out there but here they are and... hmm. No, probably better not. Takashi needs to concentrate on what he’s doing and besides that, the idea of a very curious semi-sentient robot lion sort of sniffing around their heads while they fool around is killing the mood before it even settles in.

Besides, between the soft bed and Curtis’ warm arms around him and the scent of bayberries and evergreens and the soothing rumble of the Lion doing its thing, Adam is perfectly happy to just lie here and cuddle and maybe nap a little until they get to Altea. He wishes Takashi could join them, though... 

Wait. 

Maybe he can.

* * *

They’re about an hour out from Altea when Shiro starts feeling something weird. Weird, but kind of... nice? 

It’s just the space version of highway hypnosis, he thinks at first, and he wonders if maybe he should have asked Adam to toss him a Monster on his way out of the cockpit. And then he feels the Lion kind of slow-blink in his mind, and he realizes what it is he’s actually feeling. 

He’s not sure what they’re doing back there. Probably not actually--okay, Shiro does not know where the phrase _ psychic road head _came from, but he knows that’s definitely not what’s going on in the cargo bay. No, this feels... quiet. Soft. Kind of lazy. Maybe they’re dozing off a little now and then, but not quite sleeping. He gets the impression that there’s a little bit of kissing going on once in a while, maybe a little drowsy petting, but mostly they’re just tangled up together, bodies and souls, safe and content in each others’ arms. He knows if he were to put the Lion on autopilot and step back there, he wouldn’t see an inch of daylight between them. 

But there _ is _a space there. Shiro wouldn’t be able to see it with his eyes, but he can feel it. There’s always a space there. No matter how tight they hold each other, they always leave room for him. 

Then he feels that space open up a little. He feels both of them reaching out for him, warm and inviting. He realizes what they’re doing, and he laughs. He opens his mouth to remind them--Adam in particular, what did he say about “not while you’re driving” just a couple short hours ago?--that he has to fly the Lion, and as much as he’d love to get up and snuggle in with them he needs to...

He closes it again and thinks about this.

Maybe he doesn’t actually have to go back there. 

Maybe he can just sort of... 

Shiro knows what Curtis just told Adam, and he kind of wishes they hadn’t talked about that, but at the same time he knows it’s probably for the best that they did. He’s okay right now. He was being completely honest when he told Curtis having someone else along for the ride helps. But he still kind of low-key obsesses over holding onto his body when he’s flying Black. Having someone else ride along and someone else’s Quintessence in the mix makes it easier, sure, but up until now he’s never been able to completely let go of that fear of breaking whatever bonds Allura put in place to tether his soul to this body, of disappearing back into the Lion forever. 

It helped when Keith rode with him that one time, and it helped when Curtis started coming with him. But having both Curtis and Adam in here... Shiro can’t remember the last time he felt this safe in this seat. He’s not sure he’s _ever _felt this safe in this seat.

Both of the men he loves are right here with him. He can feel their presence in his connection to the Lion, and he knows they can feel his. If he loses his grip on himself they’ll know. They’ll catch him. They won’t let him slip away.

He won’t die in here again. 

Maybe it’ll be okay if he loosens that white-knuckle grip on himself. Just a little. 

He shuts his eyes and tries to relax into that space Adam and Curtis always leave for him, and what he feels isn’t the cold flush of panic in his chest or the tactile memory of his consciousness being absorbed into the Lion while his body dissolved into so many free-floating carbon atoms. 

What he feels instead is just... love. 

The word seems far too pale to even begin to describe this, but it’s the only word he has for it. As he settles into that familiar space, as he lets it fold in around him, he feels warm and safe and whole and _ loved. _

Curtis has made this trip with him before, and his Quintessence is as familiar as his voice and his touch. It feels like a glassy-still pool of spring water hidden in a forest under a full moon, cool and deep and blue like his eyes. Adam’s feels exactly the way he imagined it would. It’s warm and solid and carries the scent of cinnamon and leather, sage and sweetgrass. It’s like the place where the earth and sky meet in a late-summer sunset, where the fat orange sun just starts to slip below the horizon. Shiro can feel them, both of them, flowing through each other, flowing through him. He wonders what he feels like to them and he gets an image of the night sky, glittering with stars. 

He isn’t sure how long he stays in that space, though he knows if he really wants or needs to he can shake it off. But he doesn’t need to. In this place where he is now it’s easy to trust his Lion, easier than it’s been in a long time. He knows he won’t lose himself, and he knows it’ll get his attention if anything comes up that requires it. For now, he just keeps half an eye on his display and enjoys the feeling of being so deeply connected to both of his husbands, of--

“Hey! _ Shiro!” _

...aaaaaand just like that, it’s gone. And there’s Altea just up ahead. And there’s Red, right in front of him. 

_ “Huh!? _Oh. Hey,” Shiro wheezes, and there’s an echo of soft laughter from the cargo bay. “Hey, Keith! Sorry, I kind of, uh... spaced out there.”

Keith is silent for a minute. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay!” Shiro clears his throat. “I’m--I’m great!”

“Okay.” Keith doesn’t sound convinced. “You weren’t answering me, so I was just a little worried you might be... y’know. Freaking out.”

“Oh no, no, nothing like that, I just--” Is it warm in here? Shouldn’t the cockpit be cooler than this? Black smugly assures him that it’s keeping the cockpit the same temperature it always does for him. More muffled laughter from the cargo bay and Shiro isn’t sure but he thinks he hears Curtis snort. “Actually I was kind of, uh... like... the opposite of that?”

Another awkward silence, and then before Shiro even realizes what’s going on, he feels Black sort of nudge Keith and wink. And then he hears Keith snicker. And then he hears Curtis and Adam crack up.

“Okay!” Keith says, and there’s a strain in his voice that suggests it’s taking every bit of willpower he has to not just lose his entire shit and laugh himself sick. “Great! More than I really wanted to know, but hey, that’s good, I’m glad that’s working for you! So, uh... how about I let you get back to, uh--” _ Snerk. _ “--doing the opposite of freaking out and I’ll see you on the ground!” And with that, he peels away and heads for Altea.

_ Oh, COME ON! _Shiro thinks at Black as hard as he can. Black just gives him the biggest, shit-eatingest catface grin. 

* * *

Adam has heard plenty about how beautiful Altea is. He’s seen pictures, and it’s all Takashi and Curtis could talk about in the week or so leading up to their annual-ish trip, and the more they gushed to him about how much he was going to love it, the more skeptical he got. Well, he can’t help it. No planet could be _ that _amazing.

He knows he was wrong the second he sets foot on Altean soil for the first time. 

Haven was beautiful. It was wild and unspoiled, the weather rarely worse than the occasional thunderstorm or slushy drizzle or dry spell, the local fauna generally harmless or at least small enough and/or smart enough to not try to eat them or even fight them without a really good reason. Adam was not particularly in love with the part where he was stuck there for several years with no comm gear and little hope of rescue until Keith just happened to cruise through that sector and pick up their distress beacon, but other than that it was a really nice planet and he has a lot of fond memories of it.

Daibazaal was beautiful too, in a different way--the view from Keith’s apartment in particular was amazing, with the lights and the noise of the capital city far below and those impossibly steep mountains off in the distance, dark and imposing in the sunset against that backdrop of deep red and violet.

Altea, though.

Holy _ shit. _

They land sometime in the late morning or early afternoon, near as Adam can tell judging by the brilliant sun high in the bluest sky he’s ever seen. There are clouds, bright and wispy and strange in a way he can’t quite put his finger on at first. As he watches, he realizes they’re not just floating around with the wind, they’re flowing along set lines and curves, forming intricate patterns and mandalas in the sky. There’s the pale arc of what looks like a ring slashed across the sky from one horizon to the other, and it’s hard to tell in the daylight but he thinks it might be pulsing gently, like a heartbeat.

It’s warm, but the breeze blowing across the landing pad when they step out of the Black Lion’s mouth is cool and it smells like flowers and grass and honey. There’s a sort of ambient hum in the air like a glass harmonica or a chorus of soft voices with an occasional bright crystalline ring to it, and it doesn’t seem to have an obvious source--near as Adam can tell, it’s in the atmosphere itself. There are rolling green hills in the distance, some of them patchworked with fields of what must be flowers, pink and yellow and purple and every other color. There are birds flying overhead that make peacocks look drab. And just a little way from the landing pad there’s something that looks like a castle, all gleaming white and sparkling crystal spires and that, Adam supposes, is where they’re heading. 

Once Adam and Takashi and Curtis and their bags are out of the Lion, it growls softly and takes off on its own, going... wherever it goes when it’s not needed. Which leaves Adam wondering how they’re going to get where they need to be without it for the few short moments it takes a sleek hovering speeder to cruise up to the landing pad. 

A couple of Alteans get out of the speeder and start loading bags into the trunk. Another Altean looks very happy to see them. Adam knows exactly who he’s looking at even before Takashi greets him. Even if he hadn’t seen the pictures, that mustache needs no introduction. 

“Coran!” Takashi sweeps the guy into an enthusiastically-returned hug. “You look great.”

“Welcome back, Shiro!” Coran lifts Takashi up off the ground (and Adam’s life flashes before his eyes, Takashi and Curtis warned him that Alteans are a lot stronger than they look but _ holy shit). _“And Curtis!” He lets Takashi go and Curtis takes his turn, laughing and patting Coran on the back.

“Good to see you,” Curtis says. “The bridge isn’t the same without you, y’know.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I’ll have to come visit next time the _ Atlas _is in the neighborhood, just for old time’s--” Coran stops there, having finally noticed Adam. “Oh? Hello.” He looks like he’s gearing up for another hug. He looks like he’s not sure he should do that. He looks like he’s decided he doesn’t really give a shit whether he should or shouldn’t do that and is gearing up for it regardless. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“Coran, this is Adam.” Takashi slides up between Adam and Curtis, and wraps an arm around each of their shoulders. “Our tri-mate.”

Adam has seen a number of face journeys since the word started getting around that reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated, and even more since the word started getting around that he and Takashi and Curtis were together-yes-like-_ that, _but none of them, not even one of them, so majestic as the one Coran embarks on when Takashi introduces him. 

It begins with the facial equivalent of a _ now loading _ screen. Blink. Soft “ah.” Nod of simple comprehension. Sudden twitch of silent exclamation. _ Now loading _intensifies. Pythagorean theorem. Volume of a cone. Several hundred digits of pi. And then...

And then Coran draws in a gulp of a breath and his eyes go wide as dinner plates and Adam swears he can see the man spewing glittery hearts and stars in every direction.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Adam says, stepping up to extend a hand--they do that here, right? Most of the extraterrestrials Adam has met have known what a handshake was, Alteans probably do too? “I’ve heard so much about yo_oOOF! _”

It’s not that Coran doesn’t know what a handshake is. It’s just that that’s not what he’s here for. Before Adam can finish his sentence, there are two deceptively strong arms around his waist and his feet have left the ground and he hears Curtis and Takashi sputtering out laughter and protests.

“It’s fine!” Adam wheezes, patting Coran on the back. “I--I wasn’t using those ribs!”

* * *

Keith beat them here by a few minutes, and when the speeder pulls up in front of the Castle atrium he and Kosmo are already standing there waiting. He breaks out in a big snarky grin and opens his mouth to say something, and Shiro cuts him off with one upraised finger. “Not one word, smartass.”

Keith tries to look scandalized, but doesn’t do a very convincing job of it. “What? I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You were thinking it. Get over here.” Shiro pulls him in for a big hug and as he always does these days, feels a momentary twinge of confusion--what happened to that little skinny kid he and Adam kind of raised? Where did this full grown man come from? Yeah, sure, he can blame the quantum abyss for some of that, and he can blame missing some of the rest on being dead for a while, but... God. “How’s it going?”

“Y’know.” Keith lets Shiro go. “Same shit, different quintant?” 

“Language,” Adam prods as he sweeps Keith into his arms.

“Yeah, in case you forgot... you didn’t actually resign, y’know. Technically you’re still a Blade. So technically you’re not the boss of me.” Keith slaps Adam on the back and lets him go so Curtis can hug him too. 

“Hey, buddy.” Curtis gives Keith a big tight hug and lets him go. “Are we the first ones here? I thought Pidge and Hunk left before we did.”

“They’re running a little behind,” Keith says while Shiro reaches down to give Kosmo’s ears a good scritch. “Y’know. The usual. Pidge saw something shiny. They ought to be pulling in any minute now, though.”

Shiro just shakes his head and laughs. Yeah, that’s what he thought. Every year she finds a junk nebula or a trade ship or a deposit of some interesting alien substance she wants to take home and experiment on, and Hunk goes with her to try and keep her on schedule but then he ends up just as enthralled by whatever it is she’s found. “And Lance is probably setting up our meeting room...”

Adam gives him a funny look. “Meeting room?”

“We have a ...thing every year,” Curtis says with a little grin, and Shiro can’t help but smile himself. “You’ll like it.”

“Well, I guess for now we can head up to our room and drop off our bags, and then we’ll head down there.” Shiro waves his husbands towards the nearest lift, and Keith and Coran and Kosmo squeeze in with them. Shiro casts a cautious glance at Adam--he still doesn’t do great in crowded indoor spaces and Shiro is a little worried this might set him off. But he’s just leaning casually against the wall with Kosmo leaning just as casually against his legs. He’s fine. Everything is fine.

Everything is fine until the lift door opens onto the floor where the suite Shiro and Curtis have stayed in for the last couple of years is, and Coran looks at the display and makes a horrified noise and bolts down the hall, flinging himself in front of the door to the suite, flattening his back against it and splaying his arms out and digging his heels in as if there’s something terrible behind that door.

“No, no, _ no!” _ Coran snaps. "Absolutely not! You can’t stay in there!”

“Uh... Coran?” Shiro really just wants to put his stuff down and get out of his armor and back into his human-people clothes but... well, here they are. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, of course there’s something wrong!” Coran scoffs, as if it’s obvious. “This is a couples’ suite!”

Shiro just blinks at him. “...and?”

“And... you’re a _ triad _now?”

Curtis leans over with a kind of flustered look on his face and whispers something to Adam. Shiro catches the words _ totally big enough. _Adam just shrugs.

“No, look--” Shiro sputters out a nervous laugh. “Really, you don’t have to--”

“Well, what kind of host would I be if I asked a triad to squeeze into a couples’ suite!? Absolutely not! I _ refuse!” _

“Uh, hi, excuse me--” Adam clears his throat. “I’m sorry if this is a rude thing to ask but... am I seeing things or did you just _ grow?” _

“He does that,” Curtis says simply. He reaches for the door panel and Coran slaps a hand over it. “Coran, it’s fine. You don’t need to--”

“I certainly _ do _need to! In fact, I already have! Let me just check on, er... ahem--” 

Shiro isn’t sure what exactly is happening right now. All he knows is, Coran is yapping into his little comm badge thing and they’re standing out here in the hall where God and everyone can see them, and there’s Hunk and Pidge coming down the hall heading for their rooms and they just stop there, staring, like they’re not really sure what they’re looking at. Of course they all know about Adam, they’ve met, they know what the situation is with the three of them, but they’re standing there watching this spectacle and kind of looking torn between dying of secondhand embarrassment and wishing they had a tub of popcorn. Coran barks something about a “triad suite” at whoever’s listening, and Keith turns away quickly with his fist pressed to his mouth and Shiro thinks he hears him snicker something about “the opposite of freaking out.”

All Shiro can do is wave at them and give them a helpless shrug.

_ “Coran.” _ Curtis reaches for the panel again and quickly withdraws his hand when Coran grows even taller and looms over him in a way that even leaves Shiro feeling a little intimidated. “Look, we always stay in this suite, we know how big it is, _ it’s fine, _there’s plenty of room for--”

“Right!” Coran gives nobody in particular a sharp little nod and just like that, he’s back to his normal size. Shiro considers, just for a second, taking advantage of that and rushing the door and then he decides that probably wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do. There’s still that Altean super strength to contend with, after all. “They’re just finishing up. Excellent timing! Now, if you’ll follow me?”

Shiro hears something behind them, something like Pidge muttering _ oh we’ve gotta see this_, and something like Hunk and Keith agreeing to that.

Coran herds the three of them back to the lift. Keith and Kosmo come along for the ride and before the doors close, before any of them can say anything about it, Hunk and Pidge squeeze in along with them. _ Shit. _Shiro casts another wary glance at Adam and lays a hand on the small of his back. 

“You okay?” he whispers, and Adam nods. He has that look on his face like he’s given up trying to guess what’s going to happen next and he’s resigned himself to just going along with whatever it is, but other than that, yeah, he seems fine.

It’s a quick trip up a few floors. The lift opens into another hallway much like the one they just left, lined with doors that look much like the ones they just left, except these are a little farther apart. One of them has Castle staff scurrying out of it like ants, trailed by a cart drone loaded with cleaning supplies and such. 

Coran leads Shiro and his husbands and by extension Keith and Hunk and Pidge to that very door, slaps the panel with authority, and gestures grandly into the freshly-tidied room on the other side of that door. “And here we are! Our finest triad suite!”

“Oh wow,” Shiro hears Curtis gasp. 

“Oh _ shit,” _Adam replies.

And Shiro just has to let them do the talking, because he doesn’t know what the hell to say to any of this.

Just like Curtis said, the suite they’ve always stayed in was fine. It was spacious and well-appointed and had all the comforts he and Curtis could possibly need. The triad suite is...

It’s huge. It’s most definitely designed for three people. Three sinks in the vanity, three comfy chairs around a small table, three deck chairs on the balcony, three sets of towels, three bathrobes hung neatly on their hooks and three matching pairs of slippers lined up under them. One of the few things there isn’t three of is the bathtub. It looks a lot like the one in their usual suite except this one is damn near big enough to swim laps in, and...

Oh wow, oh shit, indeed.

The room has to be huge. Of course it does, because otherwise that damn bed wouldn’t fit in it. Surface area-wise, Shiro guesstimates it’s about the equivalent of two kings. He can really only guesstimate this, because the bed is round. There’s a pile of pillows in the middle of it and it appears to be slightly concave, like a bowl, which would sort of encourage anyone sleeping in it to huddle in the middle. He hears a loud swallow behind him and glances over his shoulder to see Curtis’ ears turning purple as he stares at the thing, and Shiro can only guess at what might be going through his head.

“Whoa,” Hunk says behind them, almost reverently. “Party in Shiro’s room?”

* * *

_ Shan Cedarwind starts to suspect that everything is about to go horribly wrong when they open the door on a roomful of treasure and Pike just freezes. _

_ Pike is a thief. His entire reason for being is to fill his pockets with as many shiny things as he can cram into them. This room is full of shiny things and he is not touching any of them, he is in fact actively trying not to touch them, and that is definitely not a good sign. He looks over his shoulder and gives that new paladin they just picked up outside the dungeon entrance the hairy side-eye. That new paladin who just happened to show up to replace the one they lost in that freak landslide on the way to the ruins, who in turn just happened to show up a few minutes after their original paladin picked a fight with the wrong woodland creature... _

_ Shan is tall enough to peer over Pike’s shoulder and see exactly what’s got him so rattled. In the center of the room, on an ornate pedestal, is a sword. A beautifully crafted greatsword, its flawless blade razor-sharp and gleaming in the torchlight, its hilt encrusted with glittering gems. No display case. Nothing securing it onto its stand. It’s just sitting there. Out in the open. Where anyone could pick it up. _

_ “Yeah, no,” Pike says. “Nobody just leaves a sword like this out unless they _ want _ someone to try and steal it. And the only reason they’d want someone to steal it is...” _

_ “I got you. ‘Scuse me.” Wolfsong clears his throat and edges past Shan and Pike and into the room. He starts to sing a spell-- _ detect magic, _ by the sound of it, and then he stops halfway through and shakes his head. “You know what, I don’t even need to finish this,” he says. “It’s definitely very, _ very _ cursed. I say we get the hell out of here and forget we ever saw it.” _

_ Shan tosses a glance over his shoulder at the paladin. He’s not saying a word... but he’s staring at that sword in a way that’s making Shan really, really nervous. Surely he’s not thinking about... _

_ Oh God, he probably is. _

_ Their healer is watching the paladin as well, and he sees the writing on the wall just as Shan does, probably just as everyone else in the party does. “Okay. Okay, nobody do anything crazy yet.” Block shoots the paladin a pointed look. “Maybe I can fix it.” He carefully picks his way in behind them, being extra careful not to bump or jostle anything and considering how big he is, that’s a pretty impressive feat. _ “Dispel magic _ oughta work, right? Curses are magic, so...” _

_ “Uh...” Meklavar the dwarf engineer pops up on her toes, trying to see what’s going on. “You don’t have to actually touch it, do you? Because I wouldn’t.” _

_ “I don’t think so, I think all I gotta do is like... throw stuff at it and say some words, right?” Block pulls a little vial out of his pocket and uncorks it. “‘Kay, here goes. I cleanse this super cursed but really cool-looking but super cursed sword in the name of--” _

_ He flicks the contents of the vial towards the sword and immediately goes flying backwards like he’s been kicked in the chest by several angry mules, landing back out in the corridor with a hearty thud. Miraculously, he doesn’t bowl any of his fellow adventurers over on his way out of the room. _

_ “Oh crap!” Meklavar zips back to his side to help him up and holds three fingers up in front of his unfocused eyes. “Block? You still in there? How many fingers am I holding up?” _

_ “Fourteen,” Block whimpers. “I’m... just gonna lay down here for a minute if that’s cool with everyone.” And with that, he passes out quietly. _

_ “I got this.” _

_ That was the paladin, and Shan feels his blood run cold until he sees the paladin crouch down and sprinkle something on Block’s head and realizes “this” does not mean “the sword.” Maybe, just maybe, this paladin knows better than to just run in and grab an extremely cursed sword. Maybe. _

_ “Oof.” With the help of the dwarf and the paladin, Block staggers back to his feet, still shaking the cobwebs out. “Okay. Nope. Super cursed _ and _ it hits back. What do you think, Haseo? You’re immune to curses and stuff, right?” _

“Most _ curses. Not all.” The assassin gives the sword a once-over and makes a face. “You’re no slouch and look what it did to you. Besides, I can’t use a two-hander. Nobody’s going to buy a cursed sword and if you can’t uncurse it I don’t know who can, so there’s no point in taking it back to town either. I’m with Wolfsong. It’s not worth the risk. Let’s just get out of here before someone gets hurt.” He leans on the word “someone” just hard enough to make it painfully clear which “someone” he’s talking about. _

_But that goes right over the paladin’s head. He’s making his way into the room. Which means he’s made up his mind and it’s already too late._ _Without a further word Shan reaches up and gets a firm handful of the back of Wolfsong’s collar. He reaches up with his other hand and gets the back of Haseo’s. Wolfsong looks like he’s about to protest, but he sees the resigned look on Haseo’s face, and he glances over his shoulder and sees whatever face Shan is making, and he hisses in a little breath through his teeth._

“Plus ça change?”_ Wolfsong sighs. _

“Plus c’est la même chose,” _ Shan finishes with a solemn nod. Ever so slowly, ever so carefully, he starts to back out of the room, towing Wolfsong and Haseo along with him. _

_ “Shiro, is there anything we can say that’ll convince you to... _ not?” _ Meklavar asks him, and he just shrugs. Like this is no big deal. Like he’s not seriously considering just strolling right over and picking up an extremely cursed sword. _

_ “What? Guys, look, it’s fine. I’m a paladin, right? See, right here. _ Purifying Touch. _ Once per adventure I can touch a cursed item and call on my patron to dispel the curse. I’m gonna use that.” _

_ “Okay, wow.” Pike snorts out a laugh. “He actually kinda has a plan this time, that’s... something?” _

_ “That’s what I was afraid of.” Meklavar grabs the back of Pike’s belt with one hand and the back of Block’s with the other (because of course she can’t reach their collars) and starts dragging them back down the corridor as well. “C’mon, guys. We’re noping out too.” _

_ “Shiro.” Haseo grabs the paladin by the sleeve before Shan pulls him out of the room, trying in vain to tug him away from the sword. “This thing is bad news. Please just stop and think about this for a minute.” _

_ “I _ am _ thinking about it!” The paladin throws up his hands. “I need better gear! I’m the strongest physical fighter you’ve got and I’ve got a crappy starter sword!” _

_ “You have a crappy starter sword because you’re a brand new character,” Shan points out mildly. “Because for some reason, our paladins keep getting killed. Just saying.” _

_ “Okay. Point taken. But if we run into anything hairy deeper down, I’m going to need a better weapon than a pointy piece of sheet metal on a stick to help you fight it, right? Guys, I know it’s risky but I _ need _ this sword and I’m willing to burn my special ability to get it.” _

_ “I got a better idea,” Pike says. “How ‘bout we just go back to town and I’ll get you one?” _

_The paladin raises one eyebrow. “Get me one... how,_ _exactly?”_

_ Pike just flashes him a big toothy grin. “Don’t worry about it.” _

_ “Too late, I’m worried about it! C’mon, you know I can’t let you steal for me. It’s against my code of honor.” _

_ “Steal? Nah. I’ll leave a note. ‘IOU: one sword that doesn’t suck.’” _

_ “There’s a sword that doesn’t suck _ right here!” 

_ “Ooh. Ooh.” Wolfsong pulls out his songbook and leafs through it. “What about if someone just sort of _ convinces _ the shopkeeper to give you one for free out of the goodness of their heart?” _

_ The paladin scowls at him. “Convinces them _how?”

_ “Uh...” Wolfsong quickly tucks the ribbon between two pages and shoves his songbook back into his bag. Shan is reasonably sure he’s just bookmarked _ charm person. _ “Don’t worry about it?” _

_ Before the paladin can scold Wolfsong, Haseo holds up one finger. “Quick question. Does it count as ‘stealing’ if the shopkeeper is dead? No reason.” Pike puts up a hand and Haseo slaps his fellow rogue a solid high-five. _

_ “Would you guys knock it off? Nobody is going to rob or charm or stab anybody!” The paladin heaves a sigh. “I saw what it did to Block. It won’t hurt my feelings if everyone wants to clear out before I grab it. But I’m telling you, it’s gonna be fine.” _

_ “Yep. There they are. Those famous last words.” Wolfsong rummages through his bag again, this time pulling out a quill along with his songbook. “I gotta write a ballad about this real quick. Anyone know what rhymes with ‘dumbass--’” _

_ “Language!” the paladin snaps. _

_ “What, we’re all grownups here--” _

_ “Meklavar isn’t.” _

_ “Excuse you, I’m nineteen!” _

_ “Uh.” Block frowns like he’s trying to count that out in his head. “What’s that in dwarf years?” _

_ “I don’t know, a fetus?” Meklavar lets go of the back of Pike’s belt just long enough to jump up and swat him on the back of the head for that. “Ow! Hey!” _

_ “Okay. All right. Okay.” Shan tightens his grip on Wolfsong and Haseo’s collars and picks up his pace. “And we’re walking.” _

_ The paladin just shakes his head and takes off his gauntlets--his ability requires direct contact with the cursed item, of course--and slowly, ever so slowly, he reaches out to lay his bare hand on that jewel-encrusted hilt. And then, just before his hand closes around it there’s a sound, as though the heavens themselves have opened up and allowed the forces that shaped the world to speak directly to the adventurers, and the voice of the Creator himself echoes through the dark dank passages they’ve traversed... _

* * *

“Shiro.” Coran shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Are you _ absolutely sure _you want to do that?”

Groans all around the table. “Shiro, come _ on!” _ Keith pleads. “Look, I don’t even play this tabletop stuff except once a year with you guys, and _ I _know it’s a bad sign when the GM is asking you if you’re sure you want to do something!”

“Relax. I’ve got this under control.” Takashi rolls his eyes and nods. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Just to be clear... you’re going to just go ahead and use your ability, without examining the sword any further.”

_ Oof. _Curtis knows Coran wouldn’t be asking that if there wasn’t a reason why a closer look at the sword would be a good idea. “Babe, I think he’s trying to tell you something.”

“Oh my God.” Adam grabs Takashi by the forearm. _ “Look at the damn sword, _you lovable bonehead!”

“Sorry, Wolfsong. You’re too far away for him to hear you now.”

“Okay.” Adam nods. “I still have _ charm person _marked and ready. Shan, let me go so I can sing some sense into our husband.”

The rest of the table cracks up--except for Adam, and Takashi, and... Coran. “Uh...” Curtis glances over at Coran and could swear he saw a cloud of hearts and sparkles puff out of Coran’s head at the words _ our husband. _ ...nah, it was probably just effects from the holo-table. “By the time you get back in there he’s going to have his hand on that thing and we’re going to have to replace a paladin _ and _a bard. No way. We’re outta here.”

“Nothing is going to happen!” Takashi sputters. Keith just groans and lets his forehead drop onto the table with a hearty _ thunk. _“Yes, Coran. I’m positive. I’m going to grab the sword.”

Coran pinches the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache and lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Could you read the description of your special ability for us again, please?”

“Why, what--okay, sure.” Takashi clears his throat. All the rulebooks and stuff are in Altean, but they’ve all got nanites and it’s easy enough for Coran to read the pertinent bits out loud and everyone to write them down in English. _ “Purifying Touch: _ once per adventure, the paladin can touch a cursed item and call on their patron deity to remove the curse.”

“Go on,” Coran prompts.

“Unless--” Takashi stops there, but Curtis watches his eyes keep on reading. “Unless, uh...”

_ “Go on.” _

“Unless the item is a relic of another deity,” Takashi deadpans. “In which case... in which case the ability behaves as a normal _ dispel magic _ spell, subject to all applicable success rolls and...” He looks up at Hunk, clearly remembering how the thing flung _ him _across the room. “And, uh..." And Hunk didn’t touch it, did he? No. Hunk stood what he thought was a safe distance away from it and flicked holy water in its general direction. 

And Takashi just... walked up and put his bare hand on it.

“Ah _ shit,” _Takashi sighs.

“Language,” Adam croons, and the rest of the table cracks up again.

_ “If _you had stopped to take a closer look at the sword,” Coran begins, “you would have noticed the symbol engraved on the blade, and you would have recognized it as the sigil of Ezzekhar the Glutton, the mortal foe of your own patron deity Lumira of the Lantern. Which, I’m afraid, is going to give you a penalty on your roll.”

“Oof.” Hunk averts his eyes. “I can’t watch this. But I kinda don’t want to miss it either.”

Lance snorts out a laugh. “I know, right?”

“Of course it’s going to give me a penalty. Well...” Takashi picks up his die and shakes it in his cupped hand. “C’mon, twenty?” He lets it go. It rolls across the table and comes to a stop in front of Pidge’s tablet. 

He does not get that twenty. In fact, he gets the exact opposite of that twenty. “Gross!” Pidge flicks the die back across the table with the end of her stylus. “Critfail cooties!”

“Right,” Coran sighs, “your ability has failed in the most spectacular possible fashion, so I’m going to need you to roll versus, well, pretty much everything! Tell you what, why don’t we expedite this a little. One roll, you’ll need... let’s say a nineteen or twenty.”

“To uncurse the sword?”

Coran raises an eyebrow. 

“...to walk away from whatever happens when this blows up in my face?”

Coran raises the other eyebrow.

“...for there to be enough left of me for Block to raise when this blows up in my face?” Coran doesn’t say anything, but Curtis has seen that particular smile on enough GMs’ faces to know that’s a yes. “God. Okay.”

He rolls a four and everyone else at the table releases the collective breath they’ve been holding in uproarious laughter at Takashi’s expense. Curtis isn’t sure what part of the “pretty much everything” actually gets him; the holo-table demurely censors the carnage and when the pixelation clears, Takashi’s little paladin holo-figurine is gone and there’s nothing but an extremely cursed sword, a number of cracks and a large scorch mark on the floor in front of its pedestal, and a few gently smoldering bits of empty armor scattered around the room.

“Right, well...” Coran sits back, looking way too pleased with himself. “Why don’t we take a break while Shiro rolls another new character? And perhaps takes this opportunity to try another class? Hmm?”

Takashi looks Coran dead in the eyes and spawns himself a fresh paladin figurine. 

Some things never change, Curtis thinks while the Paladins laugh and hit the snack table, while Takashi fills out yet another new character sheet, while Coran begs him to please try another class just this once. Curtis still likes his ranged weapons, Adam still likes playing the kind of chaotic good troublemaker that drives GMs to drink, and Takashi... 

Well, he plays paladins instead of monks now but he’s still a one-class wonder and his playstyle is still something like “hold my ale and watch this.”

It’s a little weird, Curtis thinks. Takashi is such a brilliant tactician out in the real world, but sit him down for some tabletop roleplaying and his common sense goes on vacation. This isn’t a new thing, either--Curtis thinks back over the last couple of years, even back to all those D&D sessions in their academy days and wonders if maybe he does it on purpose. Maybe it’s just fun to be reckless in a setting where nobody is in any real danger. Or maybe Takashi just likes to give his fellow players the satisfaction of _ not _ being the guy who walks right over and picks up the extremely cursed sword...

They’ve taken over one of the conference rooms for the evening, as they always do that first night when everyone is just arriving and unwinding from their flights. Lance sets up some speakers and puts on some music, Hunk invades the nearest kitchen and whips up snacks, and Coran hauls out the Monsters and Mana stuff. Throughout the evening, Curtis has been keeping an eye on Adam just in case. He’s not quite as sensitive to noise and crowds as he was when he first came home, but sometimes he still gets overwhelmed and has to step outside for a little fresh air and quiet. He seems to be doing fine tonight, though. It’s a small group and a big room, and the music isn’t too loud, and he’s having fun pulling his good old lovable jackass of a bard out of mothballs and gently heckling Takashi every time he gets his character killed off again.

Takashi seems okay, too. He’s griping about his latest character’s untimely death, but it’s clear by his body language that he’s relaxed and having a great time right now. And that’s good. Piloting Black is never really easy for him these days, and in the past he’s needed a little time to decompress after they landed. This time, he seems perfectly at ease and Curtis suspects that psychic road h--psychic cuddle puddle they had on the way has a lot to do with that. 

(“Psychic road head!?” Was that where his brain was about to go? Where did that even come from!? ...okay, no, Curtis has a pretty good idea where or more specifically _ who _ it came from and he makes a mental note to lovingly roast Adam for it later)

And if both of them are relaxed and having a good time, Curtis is happy too. They’re fine. They’re all fine. But now that there’s a lull in the game action and nothing to do but shoot the breeze, Curtis is starting to notice that someone _ is _acting a little weird.

_ Coran. _

Okay. Sure. It’s Coran. He’s always been half a bubble off level but this is different. He’s sitting there listening to Adam like every word that comes out of his mouth is deep-fried gold dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with chocolate. He keeps asking some... maybe kind of borderline overly-personal questions? Nothing too embarrassing, nothing Adam doesn’t just take in stride but... come to think of it, he’s been acting a little weird ever since Takashi introduced Adam to him as their tri-mate. There was that whole thing with the room, and then they came back down here and they settled in with their food and game stuff and the first thing he asked them was “how long have you been tri-bonded” and he looked absolutely scandalized when Takashi told him they weren’t yet...

“So, Adam,” Coran begins, and Curtis feels himself bracing for something and he’s not sure what. “Have you played Monsters and Mana before? You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“Uh--” Adam shakes his head and laughs. “Yes and no? First time with this particular system, but we played the same kind of thing when we were kids.” He leans his head on Curtis’ shoulder, and Curtis gives him a little squeeze. “It was what--you, me, sometimes Veronica--”

“Oh? What about Shiro?”

Takashi glances up from his character sheet and rolls his eyes a little. “It took me a little longer to join in,” he says, reaching over to pat Adam’s knee. “I wasn’t interested. I thought it was, y’know... nerd stuff.”

“Nerd stuff,” Adam repeats in that playful mocking tone. “And then we talked you into trying it. And you liked it. _ Nerd.” _

“Well, if you’d told me up front there was actual _ strategy _involved in it I would have joined in sooner--”

“Strategy, says the guy who just _ picked up the cursed-ass sword!” _

“Hey.” Takashi pokes Adam in the ribs and laughs when he squeaks. 

“And set off a landslide,” Curtis offers, and Adam laughs when Takashi leans over and pokes _ him _in the ribs. “And tried to throw hands with a dire moose--”

_ “I _ never tried to pet a dragon,” Takashi counters, and Adam splutters out laughter.

“Curtis!? No you didn’t!”

Takashi looks over his shoulder. “Keith! Tell Adam what Curtis did to us last year!”

“Failed a wisdom save and tried to pet a luxite dragon,” Keith fires back without missing a beat. Lance looks up, way up at some imaginary thing much bigger than he is. He wiggles his finger and goes “pspspsps” at that imaginary dragon and then he and Keith both crack up.

“Okay, okay, c’mon--” Curtis laughs and looks to Coran for backup. “Would you _ please _tell them that was just because my character is--” 

The look on Coran’s face knocks his train of thought entirely off the tracks.

He’s sitting there with his chin on his folded hands, eyes wide and sparkling, watching this whole exchange as if he’s watching the sappiest, mushiest, fluffiest sweetness-and-light rom-com ever screened. All that’s missing is the recliner and the popcorn. Suddenly, Curtis is not so sure those hearts and sparkles he thought he saw were from the holo-table after all. 

Well, it’s understandable. Coran was in a triad himself. They’re almost certainly the first human triad he’s ever met. Of course he’s excited. It’s fine. It’s... probably fine. And if Coran is excited to see the three of them together, and if he’s that weirded out over the fact that they haven’t gotten tri-bonded yet, that’s a good sign on the “can they get tri-bonded on Altea” front, right? He probably wouldn’t be hanging on their every word and gazing at the three of them all heart-eyed like that if they couldn’t--

Oh. Oh no.

Or not necessarily _ oh no, _ if Coran is thinking what Curtis thinks he’s thinking that’s a great sign, that would mean they’ve absolutely got a legal green light on this, but... what is he _ doing!? _

They keep talking as Takashi works on his character sheet, and every once in a while Coran asks them questions and then when they answer, he holds his little phone-tablet-thingy under the table and adds an item to a list of some kind. Curtis isn’t exactly sure what he’s making a list of, and he doesn’t want to be rude and just outright ask and thus admit he’s been shoulder-surfing. To complicate this even more, the translator nanites nestled in all of their brains don’t do written language. Keith gets by with his Blade mask’s auto-translator, and so did Adam during his own short stint with the Blades, but Curtis is learning to read Altean the old-fashioned way and the best he can do catch a few syllables here and there, hardly enough to piece together exactly what Coran is doing. Maybe it’s just game stuff? Hard to tell.

But he keeps popping into the conversation to ask them questions about really weird stuff, like their favorite colors and animals and seasons, and listening intently to their answers, and then sneaking his phone-thingy out to tap another item onto that list...

Is he actually sitting here already planning... 

No. No, of course he’s not. 

...is he?

* * *

Shiro always enjoys their more-or-less annual gaming night, but it’s been a long day for everyone who had to make the trip out here and it’s only a matter of time before it starts to catch up with them. And Shiro isn’t as young as he used to be, and neither are Curtis and Adam, and as much as they’d like to keep playing they’re all starting to drag a little. 

“Let’s hit the game store when we get home,” Adam says on the way back to their suite. “I forgot how much fun this was.”

“Ooh.” Curtis nods and squeezes his shoulder. “That’s a really good idea. And hey, we were just talking the other day about needing a together hobby for all of us...”

“Huh, yeah.” Shiro wasn’t expecting that. It’s a great idea. They have their individual hobbies, and they have stuff they pair off and do, but they haven’t figured out a regular fun thing for all three of them to do yet and this sounds as good as anything. “I’ll ask Matt if he’d be interested, and you know Hunk and Pidge would be up for it.” He taps the lock panel and the door opens, and he’s still taken aback by the huge room on the other side of it. 

“Cool. Okay, now--” The second the door closes behind them, Adam whips his shirt off and drops it on the floor without a single shred of care for where it lands. “I love you both but get the _ hell _ out of my way and let me at that tub.”

Shiro watches Adam make a beeline for that massive tub, and he can’t help but laugh. Just a couple short months ago Adam was afraid to even take his shirt off in front of them, much less let them touch the scars he kept hidden under his clothing. And now here he is, leaving a trail of clothes all the way from the door to the tub like it’s no big deal. “Think he can figure out the controls?”

Curtis breathes out a little chuckle too as Adam kicks his boxers off and plops into the already-steaming tub. “Yeah, he’ll--ooh no. Hey, babe? If there’s a yellow one with a thing that looks like a crab claw on it, don’t push it.”

“Why?” Adam tugs the rubber band out of his braid, tosses it onto the edge of the tub, and ducks the back of his head under the water. “What’s it do?”

“It’s, uh...” Curtis grimaces a little, and Shiro cringes too at the memory of the time he hit that button by accident. “It’s... not for humans, how about we just leave it at that.”

Adam opens his mouth like he’s thinking about arguing with that. Then he seems to remember where he is and closes it again. “What about this green one with the... wiggly thing?”

“Yeah, the rest of them are safe.”

With that assurance given, Adam goes back to playing with the control panel and Shiro sits down on the edge of the bed to pull his shoes off and watch. He’s glad Adam is having a good time. And that he’s not getting weirded out about Coran being Coran.

But Shiro frowns a little as he replays bits and pieces of the day in his head. _ Is _Coran just being Coran? Sure, the way he’s been acting is pretty standard for him, especially when he’s excited. And it’s understandable that he’d be excited about meeting Adam, he was in a triad himself after all. But all those questions he kept asking, God, it reminds Shiro of Curtis’ mom interrogating him about decorations and music and stuff for their wedding--

Oh shit. 

He’s not already planning... 

No. No, of course he’s not. Shiro hasn’t even told him they’re interested in doing that here, he couldn’t already be planning their whole tri-bonding ceremony. Of course not. That’s silly.

_ No, _ Shiro’s hindbrain whispers, _ that’s not silly. That’s Coran. _

Curtis must have some idea what’s on his mind, because he leans over and whispers “did you ask Coran about the tri-bonding stuff?” while Adam splashes around like a kid at the beach, pushing buttons that dispense suds and adjust the lighting and all kinds of stuff.

Shiro shakes his head. “He’s got too much going on right now. I’ll catch him tomorrow after dinner.”

Truth be told, he feels a little silly about all of this. From the moment Adam moved in with them, they’d all been thinking of each other as “husbands.” An actual legal tri-bonding would just be a formality, just a bit of official paperwork that would trim away some of the red tape with their bank accounts and insurance, and at tax time, and when they decide they’re ready for kids, and if (God forbid) one of them gets hurt or sick and the other two have to deal with the hospital, and so on. Still, they haven’t actually asked Adam in so many words to marry them yet. Shiro figured it’d be best to wait until they find out whether or not that’s actually something they can even do, the last thing he wants is to pop that question again only to find out they can’t follow through on it...

_ Do you really think Coran would be asking you whether you prefer sunny mornings, rainy afternoons, or aether-orby evenings out of the blue like that if you couldn’t follow through? _Shiro’s hindbrain peeps again. 

“So if we get the all-clear...” Curtis grins a little as Adam finds the jacuzzi mode button and flops back against the side of the tub with a contented groan. “We’re going to sit him down and like... actually propose to him, right?”

Shiro can’t help but laugh. It’s like Curtis is reading his mind. “Oh, definitely--”

“Ahhhhhhh oh hell yes. Guys, get in here, you can adjust the jets!”

“Pressure or position?” Curtis asks. “Or temperature?”

_ “All of the above.” _

Shiro raises an eyebrow. Curtis raises one right back. 

They leave two more trails of clothing from the bed to the tub.

* * *

The tub is great. The tub is amazing. All they do is soak and snuggle but by the time they finally get out of it, they’re all boneless and relaxed and ready to just flop into bed and sleep.

Except... 

“So, uh...” Curtis clears his throat and gestures vaguely towards the bed. The big round bed. The big round sort of bowl-shaped bed. _ “How?” _

Adam and Takashi stare at the thing for a while, doing the calculations, trying to figure this out. 

“How about... just like we always do?” Adam suggests. Well, that’s as good a starting point as any. They arrange themselves and their pillows in the middle of the bed just as they do in their flat rectangular human-people bed--Adam as the little spoon, Curtis as the big spoon, Takashi in the middle. And that’s fine, Curtis guesses.

Except it feels a little awkward, with their heads and feet higher than their hips--not much higher, no, but the difference is enough to be uncomfortable and Curtis dreads the backache he’s going to wake up with if he falls asleep like this. 

They try another position--Takashi on his back, Curtis and Adam on their stomachs tucked up as close to him as they can get. This kind of works, but there’s the same issue of the bowl-shaped bed. Also, Takashi snores when he sleeps on his back.

They try wriggling a little more towards the edge, leaving their feet in the middle of the bed, but it still feels weird.

They try a few more positions. All of them have the same problem. Curtis starts to regret leaving the air bed in the Lion, it’s not like the room isn’t big enough to put it up...

“Hang on,” Takashi finally sighs. “I think we’re trying to fit a square peg into a round hole here. How about--” He shifts onto one hip, kind of half on his side, half on his back, legs loosely drawn up, and he pats his stomach. “One of you put your head right here.”

Huh.

Curtis waves Adam ahead on this, just to see what happens. Adam settles in with his head on Takashi’s stomach in a similar position--kind of half-curled up on his side.

“Like this?”

“No, flip over and kinda turn--yeah, there you go.”

Oh. _ Oh! _ The light bulb comes on and Curtis fits himself into this little puzzle, sliding in under Takashi’s head, laying his head on Adam’s stomach, and Takashi settles down onto him and it just _ fits. _They don’t even really need the pillows strewn around them. Adam’s fingers are combing through his hair and his own fingers are stroking Takashi’s floof back from his forehead, and every once in a while someone’s stomach makes a funny little noise and they laugh about it, and it’s warm and it’s snug and Curtis already knows he’s going to sleep like a baby. 

He isn’t sure he’d want to trade in their regular bed for one of these--well, for one thing, they’d probably have to knock a wall out and build onto the bedroom and then so much for the pool they’re still muttering about putting in someday.

But for tonight... it’s perfect.

* * *

Adam wakes up the next morning curled up with Curtis and Takashi in that big round bed, in a configuration of arms and legs and pillows their bed back home could never dream of accommodating. He slept great. Weird dreams, though. Not bad, just weird and really, really vivid. Takashi warned him that might happen, something about free-floating Altean magic or whatever. 

Takashi is going to be hanging out with Keith and the rest of the Paladins and Coran all day. But it’s not like Adam and Curtis are just going to sit around their room staring out the window while he’s doing that. Curtis has been here enough times to know his way around the city, so he’s on the house comm with someone about transportation. Specifically, about renting a speeder.

Adam is not sure he likes the idea of riding shotgun while Curtis drives an Altean speeder. The man’s driving is scary enough in a car with four wheels firmly set on the ground. But, on the other hand... well, he _ has _been here before and he’s been making some vague noises about some specific thing he wants to show Adam, and that’s got Adam’s curiosity piqued. Whatever today will bring... at least it won’t be boring?

After they finish their breakfast and see Takashi off to do what he needs to do today, they head down to the atrium where a red-haired Altean gal comes up to meet them.

“Hey, Merla.” Curtis gives her a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Wonderful.” She catches Adam’s eye and gives him a little wink. “So have you, to hear Coran tell it. And tell it. And tell it some more. You three are all he can talk about.”

There’s a little shadow that crosses Curtis’ face when she says that, just the faintest little flash of _ uh oh. _“Um. R-really?”

“Really. Listen, I’m not going to keep you, you’ve probably got plans for today and I’ve got some things I need to take care of, but your speeder’s right out front.” Merla lowers her voice and gives them a sly grin. “By the way... a really _ interesting _new shop just opened up downtown a few movements ago. It’s not far from the parking terminal, it’s--well, you’ll know it when you see it.”

Adam isn’t sure whether to be worried or intrigued or both.

* * *

Adam thinks maybe he should find it somewhat reassuring that Curtis is practically a Sunday driver on Altea. 

He does not find it reassuring at all.

Mostly, he doesn’t find it reassuring because it’s all relative. Curtis is not being unusually careful in this hopped-up hovering hotrod. Oh no. Curtis is being his usual cheerful lead-footed self. Adam guesses they’re doing at least a hundred miles an hour. But they’re in what Adam is reasonably sure is the slow lane, and they’re getting passed like they’re in reverse. He’s only _reasonably _sure they’re in the slow lane--only _reasonably _sure they’re in a lane at all. The holographic stripes hovering at door-handle height seem to be little more than a friendly suggestion and Curtis seems to be the only person on the freeway actually taking that suggestion under consideration. Every once in a while someone passes them not on the left like a decent person, not on the shoulder like a garden-variety Earth asshole driver, but over them. As in... _leapfrogging right the fuck over the top of them. _Apparently this is legal. Apparently this isn’t just legal, it’s to be expected. Doesn’t keep Adam from jumping halfway out of his skin the first time someone does it to them. And then Curtis does it to a rare specimen who’s driving even slower than him, and Adam latches onto the oh-shit handle and the armrest and digs his feet into the floorboard and watches his entire life flash before his eyes. 

As soon as the speeder settles back down to its normal hovering altitude Curtis glances over and the look on his face says it’s just now occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he should have warned Adam about that particular maneuver. “Oh! Um... sorry,” he stammers, reaching over to pat Adam’s knee. “I’ll give you a heads-up before I do that again, huh?”

“Please,” Adam squeaks.

* * *

Shiro always feels a little guilty in the hours leading up to their more-or-less annual dinner. Setting this event up has to be a lot of work, and he always feels like he should be doing more to help. He’s tried before--no, despite the progress he’s made in the kitchen department over the last few years, he still understands that the kind of stuff they make for this dinner is way above his pay grade. He thought maybe the cooks would still appreciate a pair of extra hands to fetch them things or carry things or whatever. But no. He’s been kindly but firmly turned away every time. He’d be inclined to suspect that his culinary reputation preceded him if the Alteans hadn’t done the exact same thing to Hunk. He’s allowed into the kitchen to bake one pan of the cupcakes Allura loved so much, and once they’re cooled and decorated he is gently but firmly asked to leave and relax until dinner.

Shiro feels even more guilty this year, because there’s still that unaddressed issue of his and Coran’s previous discussion of tri-bonding stuff. 

This is not the time to have that conversation, though. Coran is still busy, still running around trying to oversee all the setup no matter how many times they all ask him to take a break or offer to help, still shooing all of the Paladins away from the kitchen and the table they’re setting up under the statue. 

Well... almost all of the Paladins.

Still, Shiro thinks as he sits on that balcony and watches Lance spend a few quiet minutes sitting in the shadow of Allura’s statue, Coran probably did make him sign some kind of binding legal agreement to not touch a dish or move a chair or so much as hold a door open.

Lance has been coming back to Earth a little more often lately. He never stays more than a week or so but he hardly left Altea at all for the first couple of years--that first Christmas after he left, Veronica had to threaten to send Acxa out here to kidnap him if he didn’t come under his own steam, and he came back for a couple days for the wedding, and that was it. And now he’s come home three or four times in the last year alone. Keith says he even comes to Daibazaal to hang out once in a while. 

He still misses Allura. That much is obvious. Shiro doesn’t blame him; he never stopped missing Adam and neither did Curtis, and they were both grown adults when they lost him. But it seems like Lance is starting to get a little restless here, and Shiro can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his head right now.

There’s a flash to Shiro’s left then; it fades away leaving Keith standing there holding on to Kosmo’s bountiful fluff. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Shiro reaches down to scritch behind Kosmo’s ears. “Pull up a rail.”

Keith leans on the rail and watches the goings-on down below and doesn’t say anything for a while. He’s looking at the statue, Shiro thinks at first. And that’s not entirely wrong. It’s not entirely right either, he realizes. He almost says something, but... nah. Not the time. 

“So,” Keith says, in that way that sounds casual but really isn’t. “Have you talked to Coran yet?”

Shiro shakes his head and laughs softly. “No, he’s kind of--” He gestures down, in the general direction of their dinner table, where Coran and a bunch of Castle staff are swarming around getting everything ready. “Besides... I need to apologize to him first.”

“Why? What’d you do?”

“I asked him about that painting. Y’know, the tri-bonding one.” Shiro heaves out a sigh. “And then I freaked out when he explained it to me.”

“Wait, was this at the Altean art thing in Houston? While Adam was--”

“Working for you, yeah.”

Keith snorts out a little laugh. “You think he even remembers that?”

“Yeah? It was just a couple months ago!”

“Okay, but look how he’s been acting the whole time we’ve been here.” 

“I know, but--” Maybe he’s being ridiculous about this. Maybe he’s worried about nothing. Keith has a point. Coran sure isn’t acting like his feelings are hurt--at least, not hurt enough to air them out in front of everyone last night. But on the other hand... “Even if he doesn’t remember, _I _do.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Shiro watches Keith watch Lance for a minute, almost says something again, and doesn’t. 

“Oh, uh.” Keith clears his throat. “Speaking of Adam... I’ll hit him up later but just a heads-up, I might need to borrow him sometime. Acxa’s starting to think about stepping back for a while. I figured she would sooner or later, guess that long-distance thing’s pretty rough...”

“I bet it is,” Shiro says as mildly as he can, even though he can’t quite stop that corner of his mouth from heading upwards.

Keith gives him the hairy side-eye for a moment, then shakes his head. “Anyway... Adam’s a great pilot and more importantly...” He huffs out a sigh. “He’s not scared of Zethrid. I keep trying to talk to her about picking on the pilots but--”

“Huh.” Shiro tries to keep the other corner of his mouth from creeping up and can’t. “So... you need a good pilot, one that knows how your crew is and won’t be put off by that, one you already know you can trust...”

“Yeah, exactly. See, it pretty much has to be Adam.”

“Hmm. You sure you’ve run through all your other options?”

“Positive.”

“Really?” Shiro kind of feels bad about what he’s about to do but on the other hand... “So you already asked Lance?”

“Uh--” It’s clear by the look on Keith’s face that he hasn’t. Shiro also suspects that he thought about it and, for whatever reason, decided not to. “I, uh... no.”

Shiro waits patiently for him to elaborate on that. He doesn’t. “He’s a great pilot,” he finally prods. “You know how twitchy Red can be.”

“I know.”

“And Altea is a lot closer than Earth. You’d have to come here to catch a wormhole anyway, right?”

“I know.”

“He could hang with Zethrid.”

“I... I don’t know about _ that.” _

“All right.” Shiro reaches over and claps Keith on the shoulder. “Tell you what. Promise me you’ll ask him, and I promise I’ll ask Coran about the tri-bonding stuff. Okay?”

Keith makes a face like someone is scraping their nails across a blackboard, but he nods anyway.

* * *

Adam has never really gotten used to big cities on other planets being as similar as they are to big cities on Earth. 

Sure, the architecture is always different and the signs are always in different languages he can’t read and the people always look different, but some things just seem to be universal constants. There are always traffic lights and crosswalks and the occasional jaywalker. There are always lush little pocket parks tucked between some of the buildings, and they’re always full of kids playing and pets being walked and street artists and buskers and food carts plying their trade. There’s always some form of mass transit, complete with folks wrangling their kids or playing on their phone-like devices while they wait for their bus. There are shops and offices and hospitals and libraries and restaurants and places of worship and all of the things cities have, even if they look different or smell different or the “universal” symbols on the signs haven’t quite spread to Earth yet. It always feels a little weird, seeing the familiar and the alien come together like this.

They park the speeder on something that looks like a conveyor belt. There’s a kiosk nearby that stamps a little glowing symbol on the back of Curtis’ hand, and then the conveyor thing whisks the speeder off who knows where. Curtis explains that when they’re ready to go back to the Castle he’ll just stick his hand back in the machine, the machine will read and then remove the little stamp, and their speeder will be delivered right back to them.

Adam thinks back to a few of his less pleasant parking experiences in downtown Calgary and decides that Earth desperately needs this particular bit of alien technology.

Then Curtis leads Adam down a few streets to a sort of town square. There’s a crystal fountain in the center of it, spraying intricate patterns of water and catching the sun in the mist, throwing rainbows into the air. There’s a gaggle of market carts spread out on the grassy area on one side, people selling food and handicrafts and all kinds of stuff. Along the other edges there are little shops and cafes and things like that.

They pass a clothing store, with crystal mannequins in the window clad in sharp-looking tailored suits and robes and dresses. Adam has never been much for keeping up with the latest in fashion but he still has to stop and stare for a while because he’s not sure whether the clothes or the mannequins wearing them are more interesting.

The mannequins don’t seem to have any visible joints or mechanisms making them tick, but they’re moving. It’s a little uncanny-valleyish, the way they tilt their heads and gesture in a slow-motion imitation of friendly conversation with one another. They don’t react to Adam waving a hand at eye level, but Curtis laughs. 

“They’re just mannequins,” he says. “There’s no AI in there or anything, they just... move. Ooh, look at that robe though...”

Right... the clothes. They look fancier than the stuff most of the folks on the street are wearing, and the photos on some of the signage seem to indicate that this shop deals in formal wear. 

Curtis watches Adam ogle the mannequins for a while, then he nods towards the door of the shop. “Want to try something on?”

“Uh--” Adam lets out a sheepish laugh and shakes his head. “Not gonna lie, it’s interesting but we’re not really in the market for Altean formal wear today and, y’know. I don’t want to be That Guy that comes in and puts all their clothes on and walks out without buying anything.”

“You don’t have to actually put it on.” Curtis flashes him a little grin and tugs him towards the door. “C’mon. I’ll show you.”

“But--” Oh, forget it. There’s no point in trying to put up resistance when Curtis is this excited. It’s like telling a little kid Christmas is cancelled this year. So Adam gives in and lets Curtis drag him into the shop.

He notices a couple of things while Curtis is talking to the clerk. One, there are the sort of fitting booths he’d expect to see in a place like this, back in the back of the store. And two, there’s a row of little cubicles whose walls are covered with what at first glance look like full-length mirrors. Then Adam notices that one customer’s reflection is wearing a completely different outfit than she is.

Huh.

The clerk shows them to another one of those little cubicles and gives them a quick rundown of the controls. Simple enough, and mostly icon-based so Adam doesn’t have to read anything, and Curtis can read enough of what little text there is to get the gist of what it says. And then she leaves them to it.

They _ definitely _need this technology on Earth.

They’ve got an entire catalog at their disposal. The system takes all the guesswork out of sizing. He can look at the screens as if he’s looking in a mirror, and he can see exactly what any given article of clothing will look like on him in an instant. He can change the color, the material, the cut, the trim and other embellishments, everything with the touch of a panel. And, Curtis tells him, if he were to find something he couldn’t live without, another touch of the panel would send the exact specifications and measurements to a machine in the back that would fabricate it, and _ then _he would take it to one of the actual fitting booths to try it on for real and have the live tailors make whatever final adjustments need to be made. 

He can even save his favorite outfits and have a little portfolio printed at the counter with photos from the mirror-screens, in case he wanted to get a second opinion before he committed to having something sewn up. Which Curtis encourages him to do, mainly to show Takashi later. 

And no, maybe Adam isn’t all that into fashion and whatnot, but there’s this one robe he “tries on,” in the exact shade of late-summer orange he loves so much, and even _ he _is shocked at how damn good it looks on him. There’s an intricate pattern of gleaming gold and amber beadwork on the collar and cuffs that looks a lot like the beadwork on some of the bits of his dance regalia. And the fit is perfect. He doesn’t have much in the way of muscle. Never did, his metabolism just isn’t wired up for that. But like Takashi’s armor, the robe is engineered to take what he has and make it look stunning. Curtis even does a double-take.

And then _ he _ “tries on” a sort of Altean tuxedo, with a high collar that opens in a deep _ V _ that draws the eye right to the hollow of his throat and slim-cut trousers and knee-high boots that perfectly showcase his long legs, in that shade of deep blue that makes his eyes sparkle accented with bright silver trim and buttons. Adam forgets how to breathe for a few seconds and makes a mental note to drag Takashi down here before they go home, just so they can see what _ he _looks like in this stuff.

When they’re done trying on outfits, they collect their portfolios and thank the clerk for her time and move on. They wander from shop to shop for a while, sometimes just browsing, sometimes buying a trinket too interesting to pass up. There’s a little cafe where Adam discovers that sandwiches are yet another universal constant. There’s even a store that bears an uncanny resemblance to any gaming store Adam has ever seen on Earth. They leave the place with custom miniatures of their Monsters and Mana characters and a new set of dice for Takashi, since the borrowed set he was playing with last night didn’t seem to like him very much. 

When they’re done there, Curtis takes Adam down a side street. “I think it’s over here...” Curtis checks his phone, looks around, and then takes Adam by the hand and leads him over to a doorway with a small understated metal plaque above it. “Yeah, here we go.”

It’s a small art gallery, or someone’s studio, or something like that. The walls are covered with the most amazing paintings--landscapes, portraits, still life, abstract, you name it. Some of them glow. Some of them change colors. _ Mom would fight someone in the street for paints like this, _Adam thinks, watching a particularly hypnotic abstract piece cycle through a series of color schemes right in front of him. 

Curtis lets him wander for a bit, and then gently steers him over to one corner. “And... here it is. This is what I wanted to show you.”

Adam doesn’t even need to ask. He knows exactly what he’s looking at.

Three Alteans, two men and a woman, standing on a stage-like platform, hands joined. A fourth Altean in the center, hands raised as if blessing them. The robes, the flowers, the ornate headdress worn by the one in the middle, the loving gazes.

He’s heard all about this painting from both of them. The Altean art exhibit in Houston, while he was off with the Blades. The conversations Curtis and Takashi both had with Coran about this painting, which led to them talking to each other about their feelings, which led to them talking to Adam. This painting, right here, is part of the reason why Adam is standing here in an art gallery on Altea with Curtis’ arm around his shoulders right now.

Curtis glances over his shoulder then and gives Adam a little pat. “Be right back,” he says, and he takes off. Adam watches him meet a tall dark-skinned Altean near the back of the room and wonders for a second if he’s actually planning on buying the painting, but then they smile and shake hands and Curtis gestures towards Adam.

“I was hoping you’d be in, I really wanted to introduce you--Adam, this is Tavo. He painted it.”

“Oh, wow!” Adam puts out a hand, and Tavo shakes it warmly. “It’s amazing work.”

“Yeah. Me and Takashi saw it on Earth and, um... it kind of helped set some things in motion.” Curtis slips back to Adam’s side and wraps that arm around his shoulders again. “Adam is our tri-mate.”

It’s not quite as long and winding of a face journey this time. Tavo does seem a bit more... well, for lack of a better word, _ normal _than Coran. But he still seems to do some math, and it still takes a moment for the significance of that phrase to sink in, and when it does, his eyes go wide.

“Because of--” He gestures at the painting. “I... I don’t know what to say but... congratulations! How long have you been bonded?”

“Well...” Curtis grimaces a little. “We’re not? I mean, not officially, we live together and we all think of each other as ‘husbands’ but... Earth hasn’t quite gotten to that point yet.” He gives Adam a little squeeze. “So Takashi’s going to talk to Coran about that while we’re here.”

“Oh,” Tavo says. One tiny syllable. Two tiny letters, by English reckoning.

All the weight in the universe. And Adam is pretty sure he knows why.

Look. Adam likes Coran. He gets the distinct impression that Coran is one of those people who... well, you either like him or you’re wrong. And of course Adam likes him. He’s been really nice. Very hospitable. Warm and friendly and welcoming as all get-out. Maybe... maybe a little too friendly, Adam thinks, remembering some of the questions Coran asked them last night.

“Is that bad?” Adam asks, already sort of knowing the answer, and Tavo hems and haws a little like he’s trying to put whatever he’s about to say into the kindest possible words. If he has to try that hard, well...

“I... I’m sure he’d be honored to officiate for you,” he finally says. “But, uh... well, he’s sort of, uh...” He clears his throat. “...old-fashioned? It’s understandable, of course, given his situation but a lot has changed since his time, and...”

Curtis takes a moment to process that. Then his eyes go wide in what sure as hell looks like horror. _ “Oh,” _he says. One syllable. Two letters. A whole lot of weight. “By, um, ‘old-fashioned’ you mean...”

“Meat crowns,” Tavo says, as matter-of-factly as one can say the words “meat crowns.”

“And... ‘meat crowns’ just means...” Adam lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s just a funny name for some traditional ceremonial thing that in no way actually involves putting meat on our heads. Right?”

“It means he will literally ask you to wear crowns made of raw meat.”

“Okay.” Adam nods gravely. “Thank you for clearing that up. I don’t know what I was expecting.” Curtis turns away quickly, eyes squeezed shut, one fist pressed to his mouth.

“Curtis, you know Coran. You should know what you’re in for.” Tavo looks like he’s trying to stifle some laughter of his own. “He knows you’re tri-mates, and I’m guessing he knows you’re not bonded yet?”

Adam remembers that face journey, that trail of hearts and sparkles Coran practically _ physically manifested _all the way from the landing pad to the Castle, the way he insisted on moving them to the biggest, fanciest suite in the whole place, the look on his face when Takashi told him they weren’t actually bonded yet, all those weird questions about favorite colors and food preferences and...

Oh shit.

“We’ve said,” Curtis squeaks, and Tavo gives them a grave nod of his own.

“Then I promise whether you two or the Captain have mentioned wanting to have an official Altean tri-bonding or not...” Tavo is definitely trying not to laugh now, and hell, Adam doesn’t blame him. “He’s already planning the ceremony. Every last detail of it. He’s just waiting for one of you to ask.”

“So, hang on--” Adam holds up a hand. “If he’s planning it, that means we _ can, _right? Like... legally? Maybe we could just... you know. Get someone else to do it.”

“Oh, whether you can or not isn’t going to be the problem,” Tavo starts, and there’s a gleam in his eye Adam isn’t sure he likes, “I’m not sure about the law on this, but he’s the Prime Minister. Even if the law doesn’t allow it he could grant you special permission, especially since one of you is a Paladin, and you know he’d be happy to do it. But if that’s the case... he’d _have _to officiate. I’m sure Merla will try and talk him into a more modern ceremony, but, well...” He gives Curtis a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, and all that aside...” Curtis just shakes his head. “If we don’t let Coran do it, it will break his heart and _ we will never hear the end of it.” _

“Okay.” Adam nods. “You know what? That’s fine. I like the guy. How bad can it be?”

Somewhere inside Adam’s head, Wolfsong the bard pulls his songbook and quill out of his pack and starts composing a ballad to immortalize another set of famous last words.

* * *

The table at the foot of Allura’s statue is covered with the finest Altean linen tablecloth, set with the fanciest dishes and crystal and cutlery. The food is exquisite, as it always is; the Castle’s chefs are the best of the best. Shiro doesn’t know what most of this stuff actually is, and he doesn’t care because it’s always amazing.

There’s always one Earth dish on the table, though--a tower of funfetti cupcakes, topped with swirls of pink buttercream and garnished with sparkling candied juniberry petals. Shiro doesn’t have the same near-insatiable sweet tooth Curtis does. But he also doesn’t turn his nose up at dessert like Adam does, and he’s trying to remind himself that those are not the main course and he really shouldn’t grab one just yet when the conversation at the table starts to take a turn for the weird.

Maybe it’s that free-floating Altean magic. Or maybe, and later Shiro will laugh at this, maybe it’s just Allura standing behind them and giving them the loving kick in the behind they need, when they need it.

Keith is talking about work stuff. He doesn’t have much else to talk about, as busy as he is with it, but they’ve run a few interesting missions lately. Mostly they’ve responded to some natural disaster or another, and then there was that couple that got stranded on some remote little moon somewhere when their ship crapped out on them, and they couldn’t fix it because that was at least a two-person job and _ someone _had to sit on their egg the whole time...

“...so we all had to take turns--well, Zethrid didn’t, she was afraid she’d smash it but I, uh...” Keith takes his phone out and pokes on the screen. “I _ might _have sent Veronica this picture...” He passes the phone to Shiro, and Shiro is very glad his mouth isn’t full right now. In the photo, Acxa is sitting cross-legged on a glossy speckled blue-gray egg big enough to contain a human toddler, looking about as serious as anyone can look sitting on a giant egg.

“God,” Shiro wheezes, passing the phone to Hunk. “Just... how big were these people?”

“Yeah, that’s the part we’re all trying not to think too much about,” Keith says. “Human-sized.”

“Gah,” Hunk says. Pidge takes the phone from him and makes a little strangled noise. “And one of them laid--_ that?_” 

“Like I said.” Keith shrugs. “We’re trying not to think about it.”

“Ah, an Unqod egg!” Coran gets the phone next. “Fascinating process, really! You see, the shell is very soft when it’s first laid, so it--”

_ “We’re trying not to think about it, Coran!” _ Keith wails, and the rest of the table cracks up. “Definitely not while we’re trying to _ eat!” _

“Oh! Right, sorry!” Coran does not look sorry at all. He passes the phone to Lance, but Lance just takes a quick glance, snickers, and gives it back to Keith. 

“Yeah, Veronica sent it to me,” he says. “Hey, speaking of which... she said Acxa might be thinking about taking a break from the Blade stuff and sticking on Earth for a while, has she said anything about that to you?”

“She hasn’t put in her two movements’ notice or anything yet but yeah? She’s mentioned it.”

“‘Kay.” Lance chews that over for a moment, along with a forkful of vegetables. “So you might be in the market for a pilot soon, huh?”

Keith _ does _have his mouth full when Lance asks that question, and for one hot second Shiro is afraid he’s about to find out how the Heimlich maneuver is going to work with his floaty arm. “Uh--well, I, uh--”

“Just, y’know... asking for a friend here,” Lance starts, and it’s clear that he’s kind of entertained by all the squirming Keith is doing right now, “if someone maybe wanted the job but like... part time? And wasn’t quite ready to move to Daibazaal or anything? Is that a thing?”

“Wh--well, yeah, it’s a thing, I just--”

Shiro turns away, fist pressed to his mouth, trying like hell to stifle his laughter for Keith’s benefit but he knows Keith, he knows Keith spent the rest of the afternoon after their little agreement rehearsing exactly what he was going to say, exactly how he was going to ask, exactly how he was going to lay out the terms and conditions (he mainly knows this because he’s spent the whole damn day doing the same damn thing with that conversation he needs to have with Coran but never mind that) and Lance just did what he’s always done and grabbed Keith by the back of the proverbial collar and dragged him kicking and screaming out of his comfort zone. This is perfect. This couldn’t be better.

“Just, uh--” Keith turns to Shiro with a _ help me!? _ look on his face, sees him laughing, and jabs him in the ribs with his elbow. This has the exact opposite effect Keith was going for. Pidge and Hunk mostly just look like they wish popcorn was on the menu this evening. “Just spitballing here but does your, uh, _ friend _live on Altea?”

“Maybe?” Lance shrugs. “And he, uh... might already know how to fly your ship? Since you let him take it around the system last time he came to hang out with you?”

Shiro was wrong. This _did _get better. “Whoa, whoa--” He wipes his eyes with his napkin. “You didn’t tell me he’s already flown it!”

“He flew it to, like--the Space Buc-ee’s and back!?”

“But he knows how to fly it!” Shiro gives Keith a hearty pat on the back. “See? I told you, it’ll work out great. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than coming all the way to Earth to pick Adam up every time you need an extra pilot--”

Adam’s name is barely out of Shiro’s mouth when he sees Coran perk up and realizes two things. 

One, Keith is out of the hot seat for now. And two, he’s just sat down in it himself.

* * *

Other than reckless Altean drivers and some ominous talk of meat crowns, Adam thinks, they’ve had a pretty good day. But it’s starting to get late, and Takashi is probably going to finish up his thing soon, and they’d both kind of like to be there when he talks to Coran about the tri-bonding thing. So they’re heading back to the parking terminal to pick up their speeder when Curtis makes a little questioning noise and looks off somewhere to Adam’s left. 

“Huh,” he says. “I don’t remember that being here last year. Wonder if that’s the new shop Merla was talking about?”

The first thing Adam notices about the shop is the artwork covering the windows: a parade of cute cartoon Alteans with curves and/or muscle in all the right places, all of them dressed in an array of cute and yet ever so slightly risqué costumes. There are plenty of ruffles and bow ties and animal-ear headbands and pinned-on tails, but also a lot of plunging necklines and high hems and tight tops and short shorts. And there’s a bright, cheerful sign perched over the door. 

Adam can’t read Altean, but Curtis can. Sort of. He frowns up at the sign, piecing together words under his breath. “Uh... hmm. I think that first word means ‘toys’ but there’s more to it... ‘large?’ no, wait, that modifier means it’s referring to time so... ‘old?’ Doesn’t look like an antique shop to me...”

Toys? Old?

Adam squints at the shop front again. One cartoon Altean in the lineup catches his eye--a buff guy in an outfit that sort of looks like the uniforms he’s seen on the traffic cops out here. But his uniform is tighter. A lot tighter. Tight enough for Adam to count his abs. And sleeveless. And with booty shorts instead of trousers. Those handcuffs on his belt definitely don’t meet law enforcement specifications. Sure, this is Altea and things might be different here but Adam is reasonably sure even Altean police-issue handcuffs are not going to be lined with purple fur. 

He looks over the rest of the lineup again. This artwork is technically safe for work by Earth standards but still pretty spicy for something that’s covering up the windows of a toy store. Come to think of it... why would a toy store cover up its windows at all? Wouldn’t they want their wares on display, visible from the street?

And then Adam notices the clientele.

Not a child in the bunch. Not one. The customers coming in and out of the place are all grown-ups, and they seem to mostly fall into one of two categories:

  1. Giggling couples (plus the occasional giggling triad and even one giggling quartet). 
  2. Singles who enter and leave the store clearly trying to make as little eye contact as possible with anyone else in or around the place.

“Um,” Adam says, tugging on Curtis’ sleeve. “Does that ‘old’ bit maybe mean... _ adult?” _

“Huh!” Curtis stares at the sign a little longer. “Yeah, I think you’re right! Kind of a weird construction though, it’s really informal...” Then he notices the windows. “Like... _ really _informal... almost kind of borderline, uh...” Then he notices the blushing Altean couple that just came out the door joined at the hip and taking turns peeking into the bag they’re bringing out and snickering at the contents. “Borderline, um...”

“Inappropriate?”

Curtis doesn’t answer that. He doesn’t need to. The flush of purple spreading across his cheeks and nose does a fine job of answering it for him. “Oh my _ God!” _ he laughs as comprehension sets in.

“I want to go in,” Adam whispers into his ear.

“Um? Sure!” Curtis is still blushing, but a kind of mischievous smile spreads across his face as he considers that. “I didn’t think you, uh...” He clears his throat. “You were never really into, um... _ toys _before?”

“Not sure I am now,” Adam says, “but I have _ got _to see this.”

* * *

They come out of the store with more knowledge about Altean pants parts than either of them ever really wanted... and a bag they can’t peek into without cracking up.

* * *

The sun is just starting to set when Curtis pulls the speeder in front of the Castle and hands it off to whoever was in charge of getting it for them to begin with, and in the warm golden light Adam can see the silhouette of the statue and the table at its feet, where Takashi and his friends are doing what they came here to do.

Curtis wraps an arm around him and snuggles him close. “Did you have a good time?”

“Mhm.” Adam lays his head on Curtis’ shoulder and watches Takashi. It’s too far for him to hear what they’re talking about, and he wouldn’t feel right listening in anyway. “You want to head back up to the room and wait for him?”

“Mmm...” Curtis gives him a little squeeze. “I kind of like to watch from here. I just... like to see him like that.”

_ Like that, _meaning... it could mean a lot of things. Relaxed and laughing. Surrounded by a found family that loves him. Looking back on good times and looking forward to the whole lifetime he has left now. 

Alive. Safe. Happy.

After everything Takashi has been through... he deserves this. All of it.

“Hey.” Curtis jostles Adam a little, snapping him out of his woolgathering. Takashi and Keith and their friends have gotten up, and gathered in tight at the foot of the statue, and although he can’t quite see it from here Adam knows perfectly well that Takashi is making metal bunny ears behind Coran’s head, just like he’s done in every selfie like this that’s hanging on their wall. “They’re wrapping up, now let’s see if...”

Hunk passes his phone around, and everyone nods and laughs and hugs, and then folks start wandering back towards the Castle. Adam watches Takashi, watches to see if he hangs back to talk to Coran... but he just walks along with the Paladins, laughing and talking to them instead of--

“Oh, come _ on,” _Curtis sighs. “Really? He’s not--c’mon.” He grabs Adam’s hand and takes off, and all Adam can do about it is run along with him. “He said he was going to ask!”

“H-hey--” Adam tries to rein Curtis in a little. “Hey. C’mon. Maybe he already did? Or maybe--” He shakes his head and picks up his pace. “Yeah, no, he chickened out.”

Takashi spots them far enough in advance to say something to Keith and send him off with a pat on the shoulder. “Hey,” he says when Curtis and Adam come into conversational range. That smile on his face is sure not the look of a man who has just chickened out, but... “Good trip to the city? Did you take Adam to see the--”

“The painting, yeah.” Curtis grabs Takashi’s hand with his free one and pulls the two of them into a little alcove in the hedges. “Did you ask Coran about--”

“No!” Takashi shrugs helplessly.

“Babe...” Curtis huffs out a little breath. “We talked about this--”

“I didn’t have to!”

“You said you’d--wait. What do you mean, you didn’t have to?”

“I mean, _ I didn’t have to.” _ Takashi puffs out a laugh. “He just... you know what, I spent this whole day psyching myself up to apologize for the thing at the museum and ask him, and he just--” He shakes his head. “Short version? We can.”

“And it’ll--” Curtis sputters out a little laugh of his own. “It’ll stick? Like, legally?”

“Legally. We’re all clear.” 

“And you didn’t even have to say--”

“Not a damn word. He just--swear to God, Adam, I dropped your name _ one time _and he just--” Takashi laughs again, and if there’s a little bit of a hysterical edge in it Curtis isn’t calling it out and neither is Adam. “He’s already planning it!” 

“Oh.” Curtis laughs too, a little strained. “Yeah, um. Tavo said he figured he might be--oh boy.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll worry about that later. For right now...” Takashi flashes Curtis a little grin. “We need to do the thing.”

“Uh huh.” Curtis returns that little grin. “We sure do.” 

Before Adam can ask what _ thing _they’re talking about, Takashi reaches over and takes his free hand. “I know I already asked you this once and you said yes but a lot of stuff’s happened since then...” He laughs, soft and a little bashful, and Adam’s heart leaps into his throat as the familiarity of this situation hits him full force.

Before they were a triad. Before the war. Before Kerberos. Before Takashi got sick. 

They were visiting Adam’s parents, and they’d gone to the park and spread a blanket out in the grass along the Bow. Takashi had insisted on making them sandwiches. He couldn’t cook to save his life, but he could slap some stuff between two pieces of bread and he insisted on doing just that much.

_ It’s the least I can do, _ he’d said, laughing the same way he did just now. _ After everything your family’s done for me. After everything _ you’ve _ done for me. Let me just do this for you today, because I want to ask you to do one more thing for me. _

They were living together, had been almost since they graduated. Adam cursed the dorm and its lack of a proper kitchen and its rules about small appliances every time he wanted to cook Takashi a decent meal, and a friend of a friend had a modest house for rent and was willing to make them a pretty nice deal. It was a practical arrangement more than anything, but still... Adam got used to waking up next to Takashi every morning way too fast, and it didn’t take him long to decide that he wouldn’t mind waking up next to Takashi every morning for the rest of his life...

He hadn’t expected Takashi to be the one to propose. It wasn’t the first time Takashi surprised him like that. It wouldn’t be the last.

And now Curtis gives him one of those adorable little smiles, and his cheeks and ears are turning a little purplish. “And I never got around to asking at all...”

They’d never actually sat down and talked about marriage. They’d talked _ around _it. They’d talked about their plans for the future as if it was a given that those plans would involve them staying together. But they’d never actually had that specific part of that conversation, never talked about what kind of ceremony they wanted, never went shopping for rings. Adam spent a lot of sleepless nights on Haven wishing they had before everything went to shit on Earth. Wishing he’d had the guts to ask Curtis to marry him. Wishing they could have had enough time to enjoy it.

Takashi and Curtis exchange a look then, and they draw in a little closer. Takashi’s arm slides around Curtis’ waist, and Curtis drapes his arm around Takashi’s shoulders, and it’s the sweetest thing Adam has ever seen. 

There was one night a couple of weeks ago--he’d started feeling around the edges of some nasty repressed memories in therapy that morning, and his sleeping brain sort of started blowing a little more of the dust off them. He woke up at three in the morning on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, and he didn’t know what else to do but crawl over Takashi and burrow in between him and Curtis. Of course he woke them both up, and of course once they realized what was going on they rubbed his back and stroked his hair to try and distract him from the nightmares. It wasn’t quite enough. He needed to hear their voices. So he asked them to tell him how they fell in love with each other, and they did.

The night they watched the video he’d left Curtis. The alien carnival that ended up being their first date. Their first kiss. The quiet evenings they spent in each others’ cabins when they could. The sort of secret code they came up with, the one that let Curtis gently prod Takashi into remembering to take a little better care of himself. That night right after the end of the war, when the shock and the numbness started to wear off and the enormity of what happened hit Takashi like a freight train and left him sobbing into Curtis’ chest. The weeks and months after they first came home to Earth, when everyone was just sort of going through the motions of normal life and Takashi and Curtis spent most of their nights on one of their couches with takeout because neither of them could muster up the energy to do much else. Their first real date on Earth. The day Takashi got the call to let him know there was still a lot of stuff in Adam’s classroom storage unit. The day they cleaned it out and found that picture of the three of them, the one that sits on the mantel to this very day. The day Takashi proposed (and Curtis was every bit as floored as Adam had been at being beaten to the punch like that). The day they moved into their house. The day they got married. 

They could have stopped there. Hearing the story of how his husbands fell in love with each other chased enough of the panic away that Adam thought he might be able to get back to sleep. But they didn’t stop there. 

They told Adam how much they both still missed him, even after all that time. They told him about the day he came back into their lives. The night they told each other they still loved him and they realized they had to tell him. The first time they both held him and kissed him and they became what they all are to each other now. They told him how grateful they were that he came home to them again, that they could both have him back, that they could both have another chance to tell him how much they both love him.

Adam has daydreamed about somehow making this legit. Of course he knew it was possible, even before he knew Alteans were on the polyamory train and had been for millennia, he knew there were planets and societies out there where that was a thing and he supposed it wouldn’t be impossible for them to go have whatever kind of ceremony would make their relationship official somewhere in the universe. Hell, he even knew Takashi was planning on asking Coran about the legality of them doing it here, this little talk they’re having now shouldn’t be a surprise. But now Adam is standing here on the most beautiful planet he’s ever seen, with the two men he loves so much, and he’s afraid his heart is going to literally explode if they ask the question he thinks is coming. If they do ask he knows the answer, of course he does, he knows it like he knows how to breathe--

“So... what do you think?” Curtis squeezes his hand. “Will you marry us?”

“Oh, _ come on!” _Takashi splutters, clearly trying to sound indignant but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him. “I wanted to ask him!”

“You asked the last two times!” Curtis shoots back. “Let someone else have a turn!”

And Adam just drops his head into the warm space between their shoulders as they pull him in tight, wheezing laughter because God, this whole thing is just so incredibly _ on brand _for both of them.

“Is that a yes?” Takashi prompts, and all Adam can do is nod.

* * *

It’s been a great day. A little wild, a little weird, but mostly just great. Adam is engaged. Officially. Again. They have... not a date in mind yet, not exactly, there are a lot of moving parts to arrange, but a rough timeframe: next summer. 

Takashi says Coran did in fact float the idea of meat crowns. He says he tried to shoot Coran down on that as gently as possible. He says he’s going to talk to Merla privately in the morning about trying to steer Coran away from the whole meat crown thing. Honestly, at this point, Adam doesn’t care if he has to stand around for a couple of hours with a sausage link wreath on his head, he’s just thrilled that this is actually going to work. After everything that’s happened, after all the awful shit all three of them have been through, they can have this. They can really have this. 

So yes, it’s been a great day. It’s also been a long day, though, and they’re all ready for another long soak in that massive tub and another night curled up in that massive bed. So Adam and Curtis are sitting on the edge of that bed pulling their shoes off, and Takashi is looking for something in his luggage, and all those bags from that trip downtown are right there too... and maybe, just maybe, Adam was hoping this would happen.

Takashi peeks into a bag, makes a little noise, “ooh” or “cool” or something, and sets it aside. He finds the bag with the fitting booth portfolios and gives them a cursory leaf-through, pausing a couple of times to take a longer, slower, _ hungrier _look at a couple of choice outfits. Then he puts them back in the bag for a more thorough examination later. He finds the bag with the game swag, pulls out the little paladin figurine, and laughs. He puts it back in the bag and sets it aside as well. And then...

Adam notices the cartoon sexy Altean graphic on the next bag Takashi picks up, and he chokes back a laugh and casually nudges Curtis.

“Huh?” Curtis opens his mouth to inquire further, but closes it when Adam makes a little _ shh _gesture and discreetly points at Takashi. “Oh,” he whispers, and he rests his chin on Adam’s shoulder to watch the fun.

Disappointingly, Takashi makes a mild little “huh” noise and sets the bag aside, and he goes on fishing through his stuff for whatever it is he’s looking for.

Then he stops. There’s a look on his face like his brain is only now getting around to processing the picture his eyes just sent down the optic nerve and is sitting inside his head going _ uh hang on hi yes excuse me quick question: what the hell was that!? _

Takashi picks up the bag and looks into it again.

He puts it down. _ Now loading. _

He picks it up a third time. Notices the artwork on the side of the bag. Peers in again. _ Now loading _intensifies.

Comprehension sets in, and a slow, dangerous grin spreads across his face.

“So, uh...” God. Takashi hasn’t taken off a stitch of clothing other than his shoes and socks yet, but he’s walking towards that great big bed with that bag in his hand like a lion gearing up to pounce on something tasty and it’s... maybe not the hottest thing Adam has ever seen, but it’s definitely in the top ten. “Was I not supposed to see this until we got home?”

Adam’s throat goes dry. He hears a little whimper on his shoulder and feels Curtis all but turn to jelly against his side. And his sex drive, which has behaved itself this whole trip so far, is threatening to shift into high gear. And he’s just about to let it when the door chimes at them.

“Shiro?” Oh God. It’s Coran. Adam likes Coran, of course he does, but... now? Why? _ Why now!? _ “Would you--and Curtis and Adam, of course--mind if I come in?”

Takashi grimaces a little. “Uh...” He runs a hand through his hair and gives Adam and Curtis a helpless look--_ what can we do? _“Um... sure, just give us a second...” Curtis deftly relieves him of the incriminating bag and stuffs it into his own duffel and zips it shut. Takashi opens the door and Coran comes in clutching a tablet in both hands. “What’s up?”

“Oh, this won’t take but a moment, I promise--” Coran sets the tablet down on the table and pokes something. Adam has no idea what all the holograms that burst forth from that tablet are (though a couple he can guess at--pictures of flowers, pictures of formal wear, color swatches, something that looks like a music player) but they sure as hell look like they’re going to take more than “a moment” to go over. “I just had a few ideas for the ceremony and I thought I’d better go over them with you while they were still fresh in my mind!”

“Oh.” Curtis stands there, eyes wide, trying to take in as much of this as he can but there is _ so much of it _ and he can read some of it but not enough, not nearly enough to get them out of this with a _ thanks, we’ll look it over. _No. Coran is going to have to actually explain it. All of it. “Um... okay?”

Adam tries to pay attention. He really does. This stuff really is interesting, and besides, this is someone else’s culture they’re working with here and he really doesn’t want to be disrespectful. Takashi seems pretty genuinely interested, if maybe a little overwhelmed. 

But as those “just a few ideas” balloon into a whole damn Altean Powerpoint presentation and Coran describes cake recipe after cake recipe and flower after flower and veers off into the history of every piece of music he’s considering for every scene and act of the production he’s benevolently threatening to make out of their tri-bonding, Adam’s thoughts keep wandering to the contents of that bag and what could be happening right this very moment if not for this presentation, and he seriously considers cranking the tub temperature down as far as it will go and just plunging into it fully-clothed. 

Curtis, bless him, finally says what they’re all thinking. “This all seems like a lot of trouble on your end,” he says, in just the right soft non-confrontational tone, just like he always does. “We’d be fine with something, you know... simple?”

“Not to worry,” Coran replies with a conspiratorial wink. “We’ll handle _ everything _for you. It won’t be any trouble at all!”

Adam winces a little as he gets the clearest visual of Wolfsong the bard pulling out his songbook to immortalize yet another set of famous last words... no. It’ll be fine. Coran knows what he’s doing, he says he’s going to handle this, he’s got that nice redheaded gal to help steer him away from the meat crowns, and it’ll be fine. Of course it will. The important thing is, _ they can do this. _ The three of them can get actual for real married on Altea and then they can go home and Adam can get his name changed on his ID (to what? Curtis just took Takashi’s name but now what are they going to do? They could hyphenate but _ damn _“Alvarez-Shirogane-Wolf” is a mouthful... eh, they’ve got time, they’ll figure it out) and they can deal with the bank and the insurance and then go back about their business just as they’d already been doing except as an actual for real lawfully wedded triad and everything is going to be fine.

  
_ It’s going to be fine, _ Adam tells himself firmly. _ Put your damn songbook away. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curtis plays a ranger who is very skilled in dealing with wildlife but is also weak vs. cute animals and has a very broad definition of "cute." Sometimes this gets the party in a lot of trouble. One time it got the party a new friend that rendered them so horribly OP the DM was forced to rewrite the rest of that adventure on the fly.
> 
> Adam plays a bard who dual-wields shields because the rules do not say in so many words that he can't. Also because enemies just don't know what to do with a dual shield-basher singing rude songs at them.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, one of those suggestions slipped under the radar and Coran wants to know what kind of live animal they want released at the end of the ceremony. None of the options are small. None of them look friendly. One of them is heavily implied to be venomous. It does not help that Coran does not specify where, exactly, the animals are to be released.
> 
> “Oh, nice,” Curtis says when Shiro relays that part to him. He’s making dinner, so his attention is kind of split and his back is turned to the Altean Powerpoint presentation that Shiro and Adam are watching with more than a little morbid fascination. Shiro is describing it to him as best he can but clearly some key points just didn’t quite get across. “So like... the dove thing?”
> 
> “Yeah, exactly like that,” Adam deadpans. “If doves were the size of minivans and had four rows of teeth.”
> 
> Curtis does not turn to look at them, but he does stop stirring as he takes a moment to process this. “Oh,” is all he says to that.

Later, much later, Shiro will kick himself all the way around the block for making any assumptions whatsoever about how this is going to play out, especially this early in the planning stage. But on the way home from Altea he starts doing a little math and he thinks guest list-wise, it’s just going to be him and Adam and Curtis plus maybe the Paladins. Well, who the hell else is going to want to fly halfway across the universe to watch them get tri-bonded? Their families have never been in space. Shiro wouldn’t blame any of them for being skittish about making the trip. So maybe they can borrow one of Ryan’s good cameras and all their families and friends on Earth and Haven and wherever can just watch the video later, right? Right.

So naturally, with a guest list that short, Shiro is assuming at this point that they’ll be flying to Altea in the Black Lion. He’s weirdly fine with that. A few months ago the idea might have given him a little bit of a cold chill, but now... now he’s actually kind of looking forward to it. Not just the destination, or what they’re going to do there. No, this time he’s looking forward to the trip itself.

It’s weird, he thinks, how minds can rewire themselves like that, unhitch a word or a smell or a sound or a situation from a terrible memory and hook it up to a better one. Then again... it wouldn’t be the first time his has done that. There was a time when just hearing the word _ champion _was almost enough to set him off. Now it mostly just reminds him of arm wrestling. And his first sort-of date with Curtis. ...and, well, the way he lost his title the next Clear Day. If he had to lose there were worse opponents, but... God. Never mind. The point is, Shiro is more okay in this pilot seat than he’s been in a long time, possibly ever, and he thinks he’ll be fine with flying Black now (at least when Curtis and Adam are in here with him), and he doesn’t see any reason for them not to do that when they head off to Altea to get tri-bonded. 

And naturally, he mentions that to Curtis and Adam when they get home. So naturally, _ they _assume they'll be flying to Altea in the Black Lion. There’s been no reason to think otherwise.

Yet.

* * *

“Soooo... how was Altea?” 

Curtis knows that tone, oh yes he does, he knows it well and he knows he’s about to be interrogated and he still can’t stop the slow grin that spreads across his face when they go on break and Veronica sort of drapes herself over his shoulder. “Altea was wonderful as always,” he replies as if he doesn’t know what she really meant by that. Veronica scoots into the chair next to him with her coffee and beams up at him, all sweetness and light. “Your brother is fine,” he goes on, as if he really thinks that’s what she’s dying to know. “You might not even have to threaten him this year. Unless he’s busy with--”

“His new part-time gig. I heard all about it.” She scoots in a little closer, eyes twinkling. “Did you find out about the _ thing?” _

“We did indeed find out about the _ thing,” _ Curtis answers. He’s tempted to leave it at that, it’s always fun to watch her make proverbial grabby-hands for the juicy little tidbits of information she’s trying to dig out of him, but they don’t have a whole lot of time to talk right now and it’d be mean to leave it on a cliffhanger that won’t be resolved until the end of their shift. “Short version: the _ thing _is on.”

Veronica looks like someone just gave her the keys to the federal strategic ice cream reserve and a spoon. “I am going to be your best person again,” she says. It’s not a question. _ Should have seen this coming, _ Curtis thinks, and he grimaces a little and hisses in a soft breath. Not soft enough to escape her, though. “What?”

“Well, y’know... we have to do it on Altea, so...”

“So what? I love Altea. And I can harass Lance in person. It’s fine.”

“I’m... not sure it is? We’re taking the Black Lion. We’re not going to have a whole lot of passenger space. And by then it’s probably going to be you _ and _Acxa--”

“It’s two more people. We won’t take up much room. We’ll bring our own snacks. You can fit two more people in the Black Lion, Curtis.”

“I, uh--” Curtis clears his throat and fights back the urge to scoot his chair back. “Look, it’s--it’s not that we don’t want you there, I swear, it’s just--I-I think we’re just going to do a video for the Earth folks. Y’know. It’s--see, if you come and our families find out _ they’re _going to want to come too and--”

“We’ll fit.” It sounds like a threat. “Are the Paladins going to be there?”

“Well--”

“I’m just saying. That’s two more Lions coming from Earth, right? There’s room.”

“W--” Curtis loses the battle with that urge to scoot back, and of course his chair makes the most embarrassing noise as he does. “It’s--they’re not really meant for passengers? Even when it was just me and Takashi I always brought the air bed because there’s _ nowhere to sit!” _

“So we bring our own seats.”

“Th-the restroom is like--” Curtis holds up his thumb and forefinger, pinched as close together as they can pinch without touching. Veronica doesn’t flinch.

“We’ve used worse.”

“I--oh God.” Curtis knows she’s having a field day, and she may not even be completely serious, she’s just having fun watching him squirm. “What about Adam? If the Paladins are coming and you’re coming, we can’t tell him _ he _ can’t have a best person! And you know it’s going to be all of the MFE pilots because you know he can’t just pick one of them! And if you’re bringing Acxa we can’t tell them they can’t bring _ their _plus-ones! And what happens when our families find out?”

Veronica raises one eyebrow. “So... _ invite your families?” _ she says, in the same tone Curtis imagines she’d use to remind him to breathe. 

He sputters out an incredulous laugh. He can’t help it. The whole idea of that is just _ ridiculous _ . His parents. His brothers. His sisters. His niblings. His aunts and uncles and cousins and cousins-once-removed and who even knows who else. And Adam’s parents and aunts and uncles and cousins. And that’s not even counting any of _ their _ plus-ones, or what happens if, God forbid, _ Takashi’s _parents surprise them all again and decide to come along... 

That idea is worse than ridiculous. It’s downright terrifying. 

Sure. Takashi’s parents are... better. Not great. Curtis might call them “tolerable” if he’s feeling charitable that day. Adam still calls them “Takashi’s shitty parents” whether Takashi is listening or not, and neither of them really blame him. And Curtis cannot imagine them being any easier to deal with after they’ve been crammed into a crowded, uncomfortable cargo bay for a few hours, with no seats or windows and a bathroom that could generously be described as a toilet in a cupboard.

Nope. Best to not go there at all. “That is absolutely not going to happen,” Curtis says firmly. Or at least, he means to say it firmly. He’s not sure how firmly it actually comes out. Not very, he’s afraid.

“Just ask your hubbies, huh?” Veronica gives him the _ eyes. _The ones that mean Curtis will not hear the end of this, and neither will Takashi or Adam, until they’ve promised her and Acxa a ride, and Curtis knows better than to try any harder to talk her out of this right now.

“Okay,” he sighs.

* * *

_ Oof. _

Shiro was afraid something like this was going to happen when the word started getting out that they were getting space-married, and he had a feeling Veronica would be the one to set it off. 

“I guess it’ll be okay?” Shiro says when Curtis sheepishly tells them about that conversation over dinner. “She knows she’ll have to bring--”

“Her own seating and stuff. Yeah.” Adam reaches over and squeezes Curtis’ shoulder. Poor guy, he clearly feels a lot worse about this than he really needs to. “And I told her about the bathroom, and--”

“And there’s still no talking her out of it. I know.” Adam laughs softly and gives Curtis one more pat. “Trust me. I know.”

“Okay.” Shiro gives them both a nod. “That’s fine, we can make it work. Veronica, and probably Acxa by then--” 

Shit. Wait. Not just Veronica and Acxa. Because, Shiro realizes, if he’s going to have his best people there, and Curtis is going to have his best person there, how the hell can they not let Adam bring someone?

“--and whoever you want to bring,” Shiro finishes, as smooth as if he’d planned that addition all along. At least, he’d like to think it’s that smooth. If it isn’t, Curtis and Adam aren’t calling him on it. “I know last time we were talking about weddings you said something about having an elder there to do a blessing or--”

Adam sputters out a near-hysterical laugh into his napkin. “Oh hell no! If Mom finds out we’re taking an elder but not her she will _peel _me.”

Shiro thinks about that for a moment. “Well... _ do _you want to take your parents?”

“Do you really want to open the ‘family’ can of worms?” Adam counters. Curtis hisses in a breath through his teeth, and Shiro knows exactly why.

Getting Adam’s family comfortable across three Lions wouldn’t be a problem. He’s an only child, he only has a few aunts and uncles and cousins, it’d be easy. No... the problem would be _ Curtis’ _family. Curtis has his parents, three older siblings (two of them married, all three of them with at least two kids each, and there’s plenty of time for Pammy to acquire a new plus-one--potentially with their own kids--before the tri-bonding), one younger sibling (currently single and childless but again, that could change), a bunch of aunts and uncles, an army of cousins and cousins-once-removed...

Again: _ oof. _

“...no,” Shiro says, and Curtis nods solemnly. “No, I--I don’t think we do. You’re right. Well... you got a plan B?”

“Probably my favorite MFE pilot,” Adam says. As if he really thinks they don’t know what he means by that.

“So,” Shiro prompts. “All four of them.”

Adam just gives him a casual shrug.

Okay. It’s still okay. That would work out fine, the MFE pilots are used to close quarters and hey, Ryan can bring his gear and they can actually have a decent video to send the people who won’t be there in person.

It’s all fine. Everything is under control.

* * *

The new term starts the first week of September, as it always does, and it brings a whole new flurry of learning-to-triad activity along with it. Mostly, there’s a lot of scheduling to work out. Shiro and Curtis like to go to the gym early in the morning. Adam prefers to wait until after work and now that he and Shiro are working full days, that can be tricky. Shiro sees the therapist on Tuesday afternoons, Curtis on Thursday, and now Adam sees her on Monday. And on Wednesdays Curtis and Adam have chorus stuff. They still have two vehicles between the three of them. Some days it takes a little juggling of pickups and dropoffs and the occasional use of the base shuttle bus to make it work. Most of the time it runs pretty smoothly, and so far Adam hasn’t seen much need to get his own car. He’s technically not supposed to drive after dark because of his eye but the Garrison is eventually going to let him fly a freighter into the depths of space, so Shiro and Curtis figure they can trust him to drive one of their cars ten minutes home from the gym.

And then just as things are starting to settle down, they have a minor argument that shakes them back up a little. Well, okay, no, it’s not an _ argument _ so much as Adam and Curtis ganging up on Shiro and hounding him to go get an eye exam that he is one hundred percent certain he does not need until he sits down and the eye doc pulls up a chart and tells him to read the smallest line he can see clearly out loud and he can’t see _ any _ of them clearly enough to read them. He’s not crazy about the machine that blows in his eyes either, what the hell is _ that _ for!?

Well, at least Adam and Curtis think he’s hot with glasses, but that doesn’t change the fact that it takes him a few days to get comfortable enough with them to drive and that throws a brand new monkey wrench into their schedule.

But even with that new wrinkle, it’s not long before they’re back to cuddle-piling on the couch in the evenings, talking about their day and going over the latest presentation Coran sent them, deciding on decorations and music and whatever else he wants them to pick out. 

They get, on average, one full Altean Powerpoint presentation a week. Sometimes they get amendments and corrections a few hours later. Sometimes they get corrected amendments and amended corrections a few hours after that. More than once, Coran has called them up to deliver corrections and clarifications in real time. More than once, Coran has forgotten to check the time on Earth when he does that. Shiro is sort of wondering what’s going to happen if he does that while Curtis is out with the _Atlas _in a few weeks. He’d like to think Coran wouldn’t call Curtis up on the official channel right in the middle of his shift and put that week’s presentation on the main screen for the whole bridge crew to see. Surely he wouldn’t... no. No, of course he wouldn’t. Coran knows better than that. 

...maybe, Shiro thinks, maybe he should give Iverson a heads-up before the _ Atlas’ _next patrol. Just in case.

(He does not actually remember to do that.)

Sometimes the presentations are blessedly short and to the point and offer them a very clear and concise list of options to choose from. These are the ones Coran has delegated to Merla or Lance. More often, Shiro and his husbands have to clear a full evening or two in order to get through them and put together whatever response Coran needs this time. Not a word about meat crowns, there’s that at least. Although there _ have _been a few presentations starting with passive-aggressive disclaimers that suggest Merla and/or Lance may have talked him out of a few meat-crown-class ideas.

At least, until today. Today, it seems one of those suggestions slipped under the radar and Coran wants to know what kind of live animal they want released at the end of the ceremony. None of the options are small. None of them look friendly. One of them is heavily implied to be venomous. It does not help that Coran does not specify where, exactly, the animals are to be released.

“Oh, nice,” Curtis says when Shiro relays that part to him. He’s making dinner, so his attention is kind of split and his back is turned to the Altean Powerpoint presentation that Shiro and Adam are watching with more than a little morbid fascination. Shiro is describing it to him as best he can but clearly some key points just didn’t quite get across. “So like... the dove thing?”

“Yeah, exactly like that,” Adam deadpans. “If doves were the size of minivans and had four rows of teeth.”

Curtis does not turn to look at them, but he does stop stirring as he takes a moment to process this. “Oh,” is all he says to that.

“I say we vote ‘none of the above,’” Shiro says.

Adam nods. “Sounds good to me.”

“Maybe...” Curtis taste-tests the contents of the pot he’s stirring, makes a little noise, and adds some stuff. “If he’s set on the animal thing, ask if we could bring some doves or something? And let _ those _go instead?”

“Sweetheart...” Adam winces a little, and Shiro knows exactly what he’s picturing. He’s picturing the ride to Altea, along with Veronica and Acxa and probably all four MFE pilots and their plus-ones, with crates of live doves in the cargo bay with them. “I am really not thinking that’s a great idea. I mean, for one thing, I don’t know if I want to deal with hauling live birds and we’re going to have passengers and their stuff on board--” 

Shiro chuckles softly into his fist. _ Nailed it. _

“--and besides that, it’s an alien planet. What’s going to happen to them after we let them go?”

Curtis stops stirring again as he ponders that. The sudden horrified expression on his face indicates that he’s come up with at least one worst case scenario. He doesn’t say out loud, but Shiro can guess what he’s come up with.

Maybe it’s occurred to him that Earth doves might not be able to survive on Altea and they’d be sending these poor birds to their eventual deaths. Or maybe the opposite, which sounds on the surface like it should be a positive, but they’ve all seen weirder things than common Earth doves becoming the most horrifically destructive invasive species a planet has ever seen. Or maybe, worst of all, he’s hit on the distinct possibility that some larger, hungrier bird will spot a number of soft white morsels being released into the air and swoop in to chow down right in front of them and Coran and whoever else they bring to this thing.

“Yeah. Okay.” Curtis shivers a little and checks the stuff in the oven. “No critters.”

Shiro takes out his phone and sends Lance a quick text: _ do you think you could talk Coran out of the animal thing? _

* * *

_ The bad news is, _ Lance texts Shiro the next afternoon, _ he won’t budge on the animal thing. I asked Merla & that’s actually not just a Coran thing, that’s an Altean wedding thing in general so it has to stay in. Tried to talk him into using the mice but no go on that either. _

Shit. Okay. ...wait. There’s more.

_ The good news is, I DID talk him into letting you bring a “““dove””” to let go instead of some wild Altean murderbeast or w/e. _

Okay. Not great, but if it’s just _ a _dove, just one (1) singular dove, maybe that won’t be so bad--wait. Why the sarcasm quotes?

_ The best news is, he has NO CLUE what a dove looks like. Already told Pidge. She’s on it. :D _

Somehow, this is both very reassuring and not reassuring at all.

* * *

When Adam gets called down to Command later that week, he’s not too worried. Takashi told him to expect it soon, and to expect good news. And Takashi is getting called down with him, so at least if the whole thing goes to shit again he’ll have moral support. 

It does not go to shit. It goes to the exact opposite of shit, and it’s all he can do to not just start running around in circles and shrieking in glee right there in front of them because they have called Adam down to tell him that finally, _ finally, _ he has succeeded in chewing and clawing his way through the last of the red tape separating his ass from a real live pilot seat. They’ve called him down to tell him to his very face that they’ve assigned him his very own freighter and he’ll be on the reserve roster during the school year (i.e. he’ll only fly if something terrible happens to enough of the regular pilots that they can’t find anyone else) and during the summer he’ll be on active rotation and he is _ thrilled. _This is absolutely the best case scenario and he can’t imagine how it could possibly get any better.

At least, he can’t until Command springs a surprise on him: unless something terrible happens to enough of the regular pilots for him to get called up sooner, his first mission will be flying the senior cadets out to the _ Atlas _for their annual space field trip. 

Adam can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

This is a mission pilots fight over--on at least one occasion, according to Takashi, via literal throwing of hands in the parking lot. It’s the single most coveted assignment the cargo fleet offers these days, for good reason. For the pilots who don’t also teach, it’s a two-week paid space vacation. For the ones who _ do _also teach... well, it’s a two-week paid space vacation minus a few paltry hours a day of herding cadets from one educational experience to the next.

But it gets even better. It just so happens that Matt Holt, bless him, put in a request to be his navigator and they approved it. At least for that mission, possibly permanently depending on how things pan out with his other responsibilities.

Even better still: when they ask if Adam has any questions about any of this, Takashi raises his hand and springs a surprise of his own: he asks to fly co-pilot on that mission. 

Adam was not expecting this and at this point he can’t be bothered to give one (1) single solitary flying fuck if it’s showing on his face or not.

Takashi, smooth as always, feeds them a line of bullshit about wanting to observe and evaluate Adam’s performance and they swallow it hook, line, and sinker. Later, Adam will suspect that line was perhaps not as much bullshit as Takashi wants him to think it was, and he fully expects to be lectured all the way to the _ Atlas _ and back about taking breaks and whatnot. He doesn’t care. He gets to spend twelve hours in the pilot seat of his very own freighter with one of the loves of his life sitting right next to him and someone at the nav console who won’t give a shit about any potential hand-holding and googoo eyes, and then they both get to spend a couple of weeks in space with the other love of their lives and Adam cannot _ wait._

And best of all: they’ll be taking the cadets on a couple of excursions. One to this Space Mall Adam keeps hearing about and is stoked to finally get to see in person. And one to a mostly uninhabited but relatively safe planet for some practical space wilderness survival training. A planet Adam knows very well. After all the shit Command gave him when he first came home, he can’t believe they’ve given him as much good news today as they already have but this, getting actual for real confirmation that they read over his proposal to do the practical survival training shit on Haven and _ actually fucking approved it, _ this is too much. He’s excited about showing the cadets how he lived off the land for the few years he spent there. He’s even more excited about introducing Curtis and Takashi to his friends there. He especially can’t wait to introduce them to the Melkorians. Much like that painting on Altea, it’s partly because of Xashurel that Adam got to keep _ both _of those loves of his life.

And while they’re there, Adam thinks, he can let all of his Haven buddies know about the tri-bonding. And hey--Xashurel have their own ship, right? It can probably make the trip to Altea just fine, maybe they can take a few folks along for the ride.

He doesn’t know how, but he keeps his composure until the meeting is over. By then even Takashi is clearly finding it hard to keep his excitement off his face, and the second they’re out of the room and the door shuts behind them there are two strong arms wrapped tight around Adam’s waist and his feet are off the floor and it’s all he can do to hang on. “Holy shit!” Adam wheezes when he manages to catch his breath, “I can’t believe they actually--”

“I know, right?” Takashi laughs into the side of his head, following it up with a good solid kiss, the kind that goes _ smack. _“I mean, they’ve been keeping me in the loop on this, I knew you were going to hear what you wanted to hear this time, but I didn’t think they’d go for the Haven stuff this year! I figured they’d--”

“--drag it out until they got tired of me asking--”

“Not quite where I was going but hey, close enough for Garrison work! Mmm. I am _so proud of you.”_ Takashi gives Adam one more deliciously snug squeeze and lets him go. “Need to get out of here before the PDA Police show up. What time is it--” He checks and shrugs. “Eh, that’s close enough for Garrison work too. Let’s cut out and grab Curtis. Pick somewhere for dinner. Anywhere you want. We need to celebrate. Oh, uh--” Adam knows that look. The one that means he’s trying to pass off whatever he’s about to say as some casual thing he always planned to add on. “Mind if we run by Pidge’s lab on the way?”

“O...kay?” Huh. Whatever Adam might have been expecting, this wasn’t it. “Random, but... sure?”

“Thanks.” Takashi gives him another good solid kiss. “Just... in and out. I just want to check on something real quick.”

* * *

Adam gets the truth out of him in bits and pieces on the way over, and by the time he does he kind of can’t wait to see what the hell kind of mad science Pidge is up to in there.

It has something to do with their live animal issue, Takashi tells him. Lance was kind of vague about that, maybe on purpose, and it’s absolutely not that Takashi doesn’t trust her skills and knowledge because of course he does, she’s the one writing the firmware updates for his _ arm _ for God’s sake, but he suspects there is a robot of some kind involved and when it comes to robots, Pidge tends to go a little, well... overboard.

Exhibit A: Chip.

Adam has not personally met Chip yet, but he’s heard plenty. He’s heard that when Chip is wearing his skin (and Takashi grimaced a little when he said that, clearly and painfully aware that this was the creepiest sentence Adam had ever heard him say), he is frequently mistaken for a live human child. Maybe one with a sort of stiff gait and a few unusual mannerisms, maybe one who sometimes asks strange and occasionally borderline inappropriate questions and whose vocabulary is orders of magnitude larger than that of many grown-ass adults with postgraduate degrees, never mind children. But he’s lifelike enough to fool most people who’ve never met him. 

Which led to a bit of commotion one afternoon when, without really thinking about the potential fallout, Pidge asked him to go to the BX and pick up her lunch and did not think to specify a mode of transportation. She assumed he’d just take one of the little electric scooters, or maybe catch the base shuttle bus. She did not expect him to download a driver’s ed textbook directly into his brain, nor did she expect him to use a similar set of fun security tools to the ones she installed on Takashi’s arm to spoof her car’s key fob...

Pidge, Matt, and Sam all thought this was pretty cool. Colleen and the MPs... not so much.

So naturally, having heard this story on the way to Pidge’s lab, Adam is a little nervous about what he’s going to see in there.

Turns out, there’s really nothing in there worth freaking out about. Aside from the mess, anyway. Does this kid ever clean? Well, no, the lab is technically _ clean, _it’s just... full of stuff. Adam has no idea what most of this stuff is. There are piles of what look like random electronic components, and cables going every which way, and a dizzying array of Post-it notes in various eye-bleeding neon colors slapped onto any surface that will hold them. Some of them are covered in arcane equations and words that don’t make a whole lot of sense out of context. Some of them are more mundane stuff like grocery lists and meeting reminders and such.

There is a small pile of some alien mineral in a containment field, a few fist-sized nuggets of something with a metallic sheen that changes colors. Every once in a while, one of the chunks wiggles in place or rolls over. There’s a Post-it with a red exclamation point on it stuck to the platform. Adam guesses this means it’s probably not a good idea to poke or lick whatever is in there.

And then, there’s what Adam guesses must be Chip. He’s sitting on a workbench, plugged into Pidge’s laptop and staring glassy-eyed into the distance. He’s wearing a little kid-sized cadet uniform and some of his skin--the hands sticking out of his sleeves look reasonably human, if a little smooth and doll-like. But everything from the neck up is bare metal.

It’s a little disturbing, and Adam tries not to stare. 

And then... there’s something else on another one of the workbenches. Adam doesn’t quite see it. Takashi made a point of dropping in on Pidge unannounced because he didn’t want to give her time to hide whatever it is Lance said she was working on for them, but she still manages to squawk and leap up and throw her lab coat over that bench and scoot back into her chair before they’re all the way in the door.

Takashi just shoots Adam a side-eye with raised eyebrow. Uh _ huh. _“Hey, Pidge,” Takashi says with a friendly wave and a casual tone, as if he didn’t even see her scrambling to cover whatever it was she just covered. “Is Chip okay?”

“What? Oh. Oh, yeah, uh--” She tries, without much success, to be cool about all of this. “Yeah, I’m just rolling his vocabulary database back. _ Again.” _ She deflates a little. “Matt keeps teaching him how to swear and I never notice until he says the wrong word to the _ really _wrong person. So, y’know, if you guys could watch your language while you’re here that’d be great. And if he does happen to wake up and say a bad word don’t let him see you laugh. It’s a machine learning thing, he interprets that as a reward. Hey, Adam.”

“Hey.” Yeah, teaching a robot child bad words? Absolutely on brand for Matt. And Adam doesn’t have a problem with the language thing. He still kind of has a hard time wrapping his brain around the idea that Pidge is a grown adult now and she’s probably heard her share of salty language from Matt, or Keith, or Takashi, or all of them. And she probably wouldn’t bat an eye if he happened to let slip a bad word or two in her presence. Still, it just doesn’t feel right to work blue in front of her even when there’s not a robot child who repeats everything he hears in the equation. “So other than that, what’s new?”

“Oh, uh... nothing?” Yeah. She’s definitely working on something. “Nothing. Just... stuff. Y’know.”

“Uh huh.” Takashi takes a casual step towards the covered workbench and Adam fights back a snicker as Pidge straightens up in her chair like she’s getting ready to tackle him away from whatever she's hiding. “That’s weird, because Lance said you were working on something for us. I mean, there’s no rush, we’re not going to need it until the summer but I was just kind of _ curious--_”

And before Pidge or Adam or anyone can say or do anything, Takashi whips that right hand out, grabs the coat, and pulls it off the table.

For one hot second, Adam is sure she’s just brought a live dove in here to use for reference. The bird on the workbench blinks its eyes open when the light hits it. It bobs gently in place for a moment. It coos softly, but there’s a strange tinny quality to the sound and when it blinks there’s a little click like the shutter of a camera, and--

And then he notices the lack of feathers. And the soft mechanical whirring noise it makes when it moves. Adam can see seams and joints when he takes a closer look, but painted white as it is, it sure as hell looks convincing enough already. 

Takashi just stands there, mouth half open, staring at this perfectly crafted mechanical dove, like he was expecting to find something ridiculous under that coat. “Is this, uh--”

“Aw, that was supposed to be a surprise!” Pidge gives them a sheepish shrug. “Yeah, this one’s just the prototype and it’s kinda not done yet, it still needs some body work and then I gotta put some feathers on and stuff but--” The robot dove bobs and coos and tweaks its head. There’s a little metallic _ ting! _ as it pecks at the surface of the table. “And it can’t fly yet, I’m still working on the wing motion. I kinda got sidetracked, that stuff we found on the way back from Altea--” She inclines her head towards the shiny lumps in the containment field-- “started acting _ super _ weird and it took a while to stabilize it. But yeah, I ought to have a few of these ready for you by then.”

“Holy _ shit,” _Adam laughs, but before it’s even all the way out of his mouth he grimaces and watches Pidge dive for the laptop Chip is hooked up to. “Sorry!”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just--” She taps frantically at the keyboard, stares at the screen, and lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Okay. Whew. Caught it. Anyway, yeah, this way you don’t have to worry about taking real birds and you don’t have to let Coran turn a whole klanmuirl loose on everyone.”

“Yeah, for values of ‘everyone’ equal to pretty much... the three of us, the five of you, Veronica, Acxa, and the MFE pilots,” Takashi chuckles. “At least we wouldn’t have had to evacuate the entire Great Hall if he did.”

“Oh jeez, right--” Pidge taps a few more things on her laptop, squints at the screen one more time, and pushes back away from it. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Matt and Mom and Dad want to come. Is it okay if we bring Bae Bae too? I mean, they’re going to ride with me but I figured I better ask--”

“Uh--” Shit. Takashi gives Adam a helpless look, and Adam gives it right back. Okay. This was not a conversation either of them expected to have today but what can they do!? “Well, uh--” It’s probably fine? It’s not like they’ll be taking up room on Black, right? And Keith is going to bring Kosmo, so Bae Bae will have a friend to hang out with. Yeah. It’s fine.

And besides, well... Adam watches the plucked robot dove bob and coo and peck and thinks it’s the least they can do, considering Pidge is going to all this trouble to whip up some faux doves to make Coran happy. “I don’t see why not,” he says, and Takashi sighs and nods.

“Yeah... you’re right,” Takashi says. “We need to run it by Curtis, so don’t tell them yet.”

Right. Like there’s any way Curtis is going to say no to this, there is a _ dog _involved, he’s going to be thrilled.

* * *

“They’re bringing the _ dog!?” _

Shiro flicks Adam a knowing glance. Adam returns it. “Yeah, she said they could get a dogsitter or whatever if they had to, but--”

“No!” Curtis looks heartbroken at the mere thought. “No no no! It’s okay! I mean, Green’s a lot smaller than Black, so if she needs _ us _to take Bae Bae we can do that, right?”

Yep. Absolutely on brand.

* * *

“Hey, uh...” They’re on the way home when Shiro feels Adam squeeze his shoulder from the back seat. “Quick and possibly dumb question--_ are _we taking Black?”

“Huh? Oh.” It takes Shiro a second to suss out context for that question, coming out of the blue like that. He waves a hand. “Yeah? I mean--I kind of assumed, if that’s okay with you two?”

“Okay.” Adam squeezes his shoulder again. “But it just hit me that maybe _ you _ wouldn’t want to, so I thought I’d ask.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I don’t mind.” Shiro feels Curtis’ hand on his knee for a moment before he puts it back on the steering wheel. “I’ll be okay. I think whatever you two did on the way to Altea--” Adam snorts out a little chuckle at that, and so does Curtis. “I don’t know, it’s like... it gave me something nice to think about, instead of the bad stuff? It’s hard to explain, but...”

“Okay.” Adam gives him one more pat on the shoulder. “I was just thinking, if you change your mind maybe we could take my ship--” 

“To Altea? For our _ wedding? _You really think the Garrison’s going to authorize that?”

“We could throw some cadets on there and call it a field trip? Cultural enrichment or some shit?”

“I don’t want to be in the room when you ask,” Shiro says. “I don’t even want to be in the building when you ask. I’d kind of like to not be on the _ planet _when you ask.”

“I think Black would be fine if you’re okay with it,” Curtis chimes in, gently steering the conversation back to the topic at hand as the light turns green and he pulls away. “It’s going to be a small ceremony, right? Probably just us and the Paladins? And um... Veronica and Acxa... and the MFE pilots... and the Holts... and probably some plus-ones...”

_ Okay, _ Shiro thinks. _ Three Lions. That’s doable. It’s fine. _

It’s totally fine.

So why does he feel like another shoe is about to drop? “I don’t know,” he says as he runs the numbers and keeps coming up with the same answer but also the same sinking feeling that something is going to throw his math all out of whack. “Now that you mention it... maybe we should look into something bigger, just as a backup? I don’t know, just--somehow I get the feeling Coran is not planning a _ small ceremony _here.”

“He might not have a choice if nobody but us and our best people and their plus-ones and whoever Xashurel can cram into their ship want to come,” Adam says, and Curtis snorts out a dry little laugh. 

“Bold of you to assume he wouldn’t furnish a couple hundred guests himself,” he says.

Shiro can’t imagine a request to borrow a whole-ass Garrison freighter for a personal trip being approved, and he doesn’t know how else they’d get many more people to Altea than they’re already accounting for. Besides that, even with the teludav a freighter isn’t exactly the fastest thing in the fleet, will _ anyone _ want to be stuck on it for what, a day and a half? Two days? Because they’re not the most comfortable thing in the fleet either, even when they’re kitted out for passenger transport. The bunk area, such as it is, only has room for the pilot and copilot and navigator and flight crew to sleep, and even that's pretty close quarters. Everyone else would be packed into cramped minimally-cushioned seats that might lean back enough to let them nap as long as the person behind them didn’t mind being stuck in _ their _seat for the duration.

And sure, they could probably get a bunch of people in the Lions if they had to. It’d be a much faster trip, but an even more uncomfortable one. Shiro pictures Adam’s parents, and his aunts and uncles and cousins, and Curtis’ parents and siblings and niblings and aunts and uncles and cousins, and the MFE team and the _ Atlas _bridge crew and the whole Holt family and dog and all of their luggage all packed into the cargo bays of three Lions like a bunch of sardines with increasingly short tempers for several hours each way and imagines what kind of spirits they’re all going to be in by the time they get to Altea and... no, not a good idea. Even spread out across Green and Yellow, it’d be a squeeze.

And then he imagines what would happen if his own parents decide to come. He imagines them stuffed right in the middle of that mass of humanity and imagines what kind of mood they’d be in by the time they land and imagines actually being able to _ feel _that through the Black Lion and his blood runs cold.

Yeah. No. That is absolutely the last thing any of them wants. Better to just avoid that whole issue.

“Okay, so here’s my suggestion--” Shiro reaches over to pat Curtis on the thigh and back to squeeze Adam’s knee. “How about we just...not put that on the table for the Earth folks other than the best people?” Curtis and Adam both make agreeable noises to that, so he goes on. “We’ll just send out announcements, not invitations, and then send out the video once that’s done. And let’s make sure Coran understands that we’re going to have a very short guest list next time he calls.”

Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

* * *

Their chance comes sooner than any of them expected. It comes much later that night, when Coran once again forgets to check Earth time before he calls and Lance is apparently not there to remind him. The three of them listen, bleary-eyed and barely awake, to Coran’s latest set of amendments and corrections and clarifications, making appropriate “we’re still listening, keep going” noises when it’s called for. 

Here’s the thing: 

Shiro distinctly remembers Curtis raising the issue of their very short guest list and mentioning that they do not want to invite a lot of people from Earth for assorted reasons. Curtis may or may not have cited transportation capacity as one of those, Shiro doesn’t remember that much. But he distinctly remembers Adam tallying up their current Earth guest count plus a high guesstimate on the Haven bunch, and the latter barely breaks double digits. And he distinctly remembers himself stressing once again that this is really not going to be a Great Hall-level crowd they’re talking about.

_ He does not remember asking Coran for help with transportation. _

Nor does he remember Curtis or Adam asking him that. Curtis and Adam don’t remember any of them asking him that, either. Granted, it’s what--two in the morning, and besides that it’s been an exciting day and it’s understandable that they might forget a few minor details of this conversation later, but _ hey while we have you, is there any way you can help us get a whole shitload of people to Altea and back _seems like the kind of topic at least one of them would remember raising. They even remember most of the rest of the conversation, the subjects if not the fine details. Hell, Curtis actually had the presence of mind to take notes in case they didn’t. Maybe some of those notes are a little cryptic, sure, but none of them reference anything remotely related to transportation.

The point is, Shiro is absolutely one hundred percent certain that beyond a passing remark they may or may not have actually made out loud, they did not discuss anything even the least little bit related to the bombshell Coran will drop on them later.

* * *

Adam absolutely plans to send his parents an announcement whenever they get around to printing those up, just like they agreed, but he figures maybe he should call them and personally tell them what’s up first.

He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth, much to Curtis and Takashi’s amusement.

“Am I to understand that you and Takashi and Curtis figured out a way to get _ actually really married _and you don’t think we’ll want to come just because you’re doing it on another planet?”

“Mom, no, it’s not--you’ve never been in space! We don’t even know how we’d--look, it’s okay, we’re going to record the ceremony, we’ll send you the video--”

“Video, my _ entire _butt!”

“Honey, listen to Adam.”

Curtis gets up quickly, one fist pressed to his mouth, and makes a hasty exit to the model room. Even the closed door isn’t enough to keep the sound of hysterical snort-laughing from carrying down the hall, and now Takashi is struggling to keep a straight face.

Great. 

“Our son is getting married! After everything that’s happened! He is finally! Getting! _ Married! _ We are not going to sit here and watch it on a darn _ screen!” _

“Jude, how are we going to get there? It’s not like they’re running passenger flights--”

“Mom, listen to Dad.”

“And who’s going to be recording it, anyway? Heck, we’ve got a camera, we can do that--”

“Well, one of my best people does this stuff on the side, so--” Ah, _ shit! _ He shouldn’t have said that. As soon as it’s out of his mouth, he knows he should _ not _have said that. He’s barely through the sentence when Mom fires back at maximum volume:

_ “ONE of your ‘best people?’ You’re taking ‘best people,’ PLURAL, but you can’t take your own MOTHER!?” _

Takashi turns away, eyes squeezed shut, teeth buried in his lower lip. Adam grabs the nearest throw pillow and whips it at him. That just makes him laugh harder. 

“So how are you and Takashi and Curtis and all your _ best people _going to get there? You have to have room for two more!”

“Two more, I--God. Okay. Hang on, Mom, just--” Adam hits the mute button on his phone. “Mom is going to do a murder if she doesn’t get to see it in person. Can we please take my parents?”

“Well...” Takashi clears his throat and pulls himself together. “I mean...” He gestures helplessly in the general direction of Adam’s phone. “We’ll have enough room, it’s just--”

“They’ll have to bring their own seats and shit. I know.”

“Yeah, but other than that it should be--” Takashi cuts off there and frowns a little. “Ooh. They’re probably going to have to fly down here the day before we leave, unless you know somewhere we could park a Lion for an hour or two in Calgary?”

_ Oof. _Good point. Still, it’s a good enough answer for now. 

Adam unmutes his phone. “Mom? Short answer: maybe just you and Dad. No aunts. No uncles. No cousins. No pets. No _instruments!_ _Just. You. And. Dad. _Period. But we’ve got some shit to work out first, I’ll call you back.” He hangs up before she can argue, drops the phone onto the couch cushion, and buries his face in his hands. “God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Takashi. This was not supposed to happen.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay.” Takashi pats him on the back. “Adam. _It’s okay. _We’ll make it work. It’s just two more people. It’ll be fine.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Shit. Wait. _Four _more people. We kinda have to let Curtis invite his parents now.”

“Yeah. I know.” Adam snorts out a dry little laugh. “What about yours?” 

“What about mine?”

“Do you want to invite them?”

“No.” Takashi rubs his back. “I’m going to _ tell _them, but... no.”

_ Thank heaven for small fucking favors, _ Adam thinks but does not say. He’s heard enough dark muttering from his mom along the lines of _ what I wouldn’t give for five minutes in a locked room with them _ to know having his parents and Takashi’s parents packed into a cramped ship together for hours on end would be spectacularly bad. And that’s not even factoring _ Curtis’ _ parents in. Curtis hasn’t said anything about Eric or Renata ever making the same kind of overt murder noises his own mom regularly made about Takashi’s parents, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t _ thinking _them...

Four more people, none of whom hate each other. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

Still, Adam thinks, maybe he’d better wait until Curtis tells his parents to call his own back and tell them it’s on.

* * *

_ Okay, _ Curtis thinks as he explains the situation to his parents. _ A.J. and Judy and Mom and Dad, okay, that’s still only four extra people, this is fine. _ It’s now going to involve flying people in from both Calgary _ and _ Houston, and now they’re going to have to put _ four _ people up at their house the night before they leave, but that’s fine. It’s just another couple of moving parts to arrange. It’s fine.

It’s fine until Curtis hears two very similar female voices in the background yelling variations on a theme of _ hold up he’s getting polymarried in SPACE!? _ and _ oh HELL no we’re not missing that! _

Oh no. His sisters are over there. His parents have the call on speaker and they heard the whole thing. And if his sisters are over, then--

Oh _ no! _

As if the universe has heard him and replied with an evil grin and an emphatic _ oh yes _ , Patty (or maybe Pammy) yells for Alan to get in there and listen to this and then Pammy (or maybe Patty) yells for Stephen and--oh crap, _ all _ of his siblings are there! Are all of their _ kids _ there? Who else is there? _ How many people are listening to this conversation!? _

His parents, bless them, try to maintain some semblance of order but Curtis knows his family and he knows it’s no use. And as more and more voices both young and old join in, the look on Takashi and Adam’s faces means his own face is saying it loud and clear: _ oh God, what have I done? _

And Takashi and Adam both know him and his family well enough to know there’s only one way this conversation can go from here.

As soon as he hangs up, he sends Veronica a text: _ so now EVERYONE in my family wants to come. Happy? :P _

* * *

Adam tries not to laugh. He really does. But, well... Curtis kind of had it coming after the way he cracked up just a few short minutes before.

Still... this might be a problem.

The damage, all told: Curtis’ parents. Both of his sisters plus Patty’s husband. Both of his brothers plus Alan’s wife. An undetermined number of niblings but most likely all of them. One of his aunts and two of his uncles, plus the uncles and aunt that go with them. Two of his cousins. At least two of his cousins-once-removed.

By the time word gets out to the rest of Curtis’ family, it’s probably going to be close to thirty more people they’re somehow going to have to ferry to Altea and back. Possibly forty, after all there’s still plenty of time for the singles to acquire plus-ones, and those hypothetical plus-ones could have their own ready-made kids...

“I’m sorry,” Curtis whimpers when he finally hangs up the phone. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I just--they already heard me tell Mom and Dad they could come and--”

“I know.” Adam rubs Curtis’ shoulder and bites back laughter again. Well, now he doesn’t feel so bad about giving in to his own parents. 

“It’s okay,” Takashi says, rubbing Curtis’ other shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine.”

“If I’d known _ everyone _was over--” Curtis hangs his head. “I should have told them to call back when they all left.”

“And then they would have found out,” Adam offers, “and then they would have blown up your phone themselves, and then you wouldn’t have been able to say no and I sure wouldn’t blame you and neither would Takashi.”

“Yeah...” Takashi grimaces a little. “I guess we should have figured this was going to happen, huh?”

Adam can see him doing the math: now they _ have _ to extend the invitation to the rest of Adam’s family. Sure, this only amounts to his parents, one bachelor uncle, one aunt-and-uncle pair, one aunt-and-aunt pair, and a handful of cousins, nothing like the legion that is the Alvarez family. But there’s also their luggage to consider. And that’s just if they want to bring normal luggage, not shit-tons of food (in the case of Curtis’ family) or musical instruments (in the case of Adam’s family and dear God he hopes if that happens his parents can talk his cousin out of bringing her entire-ass kit, Adam does not want to have to sit her down for the “a wedding reception is neither the time nor the place for an eight-minute drum solo” talk again). And the kids are going to be miserable, there’s nowhere comfortable to sit or nap in the Lions and there won’t be a lot of room to run around while they’re underway and there aren’t even any windows to look out of in the cargo bay and--shit! Kids! _ Kids are coming! _ He’s going to have to tell his uncle not to bring those goddamn _ brownies! _

“Okay. Well...” Takashi rubs his forehead. “I’ll call Hunk and Pidge in the morning and see if they’d mind picking up your families, then we can all meet here and redistribute the load, at least we’ve got two other Lions to work with...” He puffs out a helpless laugh. “I guess if we _ do _end up doing this in the Great Hall, at least now we won’t be playing to a big empty room?” Takashi stops there, and then he grimaces a little. “...rooms. Ah shit, they’re going to need rooms, we need to tell Coran...”

“I’ll call him,” Curtis sighs. “This is kind of my fault so... I got this.” He takes his phone back out and shuffles off down the hall.

* * *

Here’s the thing:

It’s Sunday afternoon. Curtis is wide awake. He remembers the whole conversation--maybe not word for word, but he remembers the important points. He remembers what he said to Coran. He remembers Coran telling him not to worry, he would see to it at once.

Aside from one passing remark about what an interesting trip it’s going to be with all of these people crammed into the Lions, Curtis does not remember saying a single word about the transport situation. 

He definitely does not remember asking Coran for help with that. Nor does he remember Coran saying anything specific about doing so, or asking if they needed him to. He just gives them the same vague-yet-firm “don’t worry, I’ll handle _ everything” _he always does.

Still, he thinks a few weeks later in the midst of the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him, he probably should have seen this coming.

* * *

The days Curtis ships out with the _ Atlas _have been hard ever since Takashi handed it over to Iverson and stepped down. But now they’re even harder.

It shouldn’t take more than two weeks. Maybe three, if something weird comes up. It’s just one of their regular patrols, just the usual fly-bys of the usual outposts to make sure everything is in order and everyone is okay out there. There might even be a stop by the Space Mall if there’s time and they’re lucky. Curtis knows that. He knows the chances of them running into any trouble deep enough to slow them down are slim to none. He knows the few pockets of troublemakers still rattling their sabers in their remote corners of the universe know better than to try and start anything with the _ Atlas. _

He knows it’s going to be fine and he still doesn’t want to go.

It’s kind of nice early in the day. They sleep in (well, they go _ back _to sleep after Takashi and Adam wake him up in the, uh, traditional launch day morning fashion), they enjoy one last hot home-cooked breakfast together, and they pack every second of together-time into those last few hours before he leaves that they can. And now Adam is there too, and he takes the day off just like Takashi does, and it’s amazing to wake up with both of them snuggled up against him on that last morning before he goes.

Maybe, Curtis thinks while they lie there in bed catching their breath and coming back to their senses, just maybe it’ll be a little easier now. Not _ easy, _ leaving the loves of his life half a universe away for a couple of weeks could never be _ easy. _

But the closer it gets to launch time, the less he believes it. 

In some ways having Adam home does make this easier--Curtis doesn’t have to worry about Takashi being bored and lonely in an empty house and an empty bed for however long he’s going to be gone. He doesn’t have to stock the freezer with quite as many pre-assembled dinners, either. They’ll have each other while he’s gone and they’ll all talk on the phone every night, and they’ll be okay.

But it also means that he has to say goodbye to _ both _of them when he ships out now. He didn’t expect it to be this hard. And the only thing that keeps him from crying while he’s standing there with his bag at his feet and Adam and Takashi in his arms is the knowledge that if he does, Adam will too and that is a scene he does not want to cause.

“We’ll call you tomorrow,” Takashi whispers into the side of his head. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Adam squishes them all in closer, and that pet name almost breaks the dam. “We’ll be okay.”

Curtis believes him. Of course he does. It doesn’t make it any easier when that announcement comes over the PA and their time is up. One last kiss for Takashi, and one for Adam, and then he has to go.

He tries to resist the urge to look back, just like he always does. He knows looking back will just make it harder and he tells himself that, just like he always does. 

He gives in, just like he always does.

* * *

It still aches, Shiro thinks, coming home to a house without Curtis in it. He knew it would. Of course it would. He knows Adam feels it too, that first step in the door, that impulse to yell _ honey, we’re home _down the hall or out the back door or whatever, and then the sudden jolt back to the reality that they’re the only ones in the house. 

Shiro kicks his shoes off in the entry hall and flops down on the couch, and Adam flops down right next to him and snuggles up against his side. That helps. It helps a lot, and Shiro wraps both arms around him and silently thanks whoever or whatever might be listening that he doesn’t have to do this alone anymore. 

“I already miss him,” Adam murmurs against his chest.

“I know, baby. Me too.” Shiro kisses Adam’s forehead and holds him tight. “But... it’s just two weeks. We’ll be okay. _ He’ll _be okay.”

“I know.” Adam snuggles down against him. “How the hell did you do this by yourself?”

Good question. 

Shiro just shrugs and nuzzles Adam’s forehead. “I stayed busy. Tried to, at least. The weekends sucked, I’d run out of stuff to do but... just put one foot in front of the other till he got home, y’know?”

“Mm.”

Adam doesn’t say anything else for a while, and Shiro wonders if he’s fallen asleep. Well... they did wake Curtis up pretty early, Shiro doesn’t blame him for napping. 

“I’m going to put in a request with Command,” Adam says then, just as Shiro closes his eyes. “I know they put you where they need you when they need you there and sometimes I might not have a choice but... I’m going to ask them not to send me out while the _ Atlas _is out too.” 

“Hey. No. You don’t need to do that.” Shiro gives Adam a good snug squeeze and smiles a little at the warm sigh that gets out of him. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will, but...” Adam shakes his head. “I just... I don’t like the idea of _ all _of us sleeping alone.”

“Adam.” Shiro combs his fingers through Adam’s hair, brushes it back from his forehead. “C’mon. The freighters all have Altean engines now. We’ve got the teludav. Cargo runs are a lot faster than they used to be, y’know? You might be gone a week, and that’s if you get a really long one. Which you won’t, at least not anytime soon. They’re keeping you on the short runs for now.”

Adam picks his head up and looks Shiro right in the eye. “Did you have something to do with that?”

“I, uh...” Shiro clears his throat. Shit. “I... can neither confirm nor deny that I did.”

Adam puffs out a laugh and gives him a playful swat on the shoulder. “Asshole.”

* * *

It gets easier after the first day. It doesn’t get _ much _ easier, and it sure as hell doesn’t get much easier for Adam to haul his ass out of bed at zero five fucking hundred to go to the gym with Takashi. But at least Takashi gets a laugh out of watching Adam zombie-shuffle down the hall on autopilot, watching him point and grunt at the coffee machine until that steaming mug of life is gently pressed into his waiting hands.

They go to the gym, and they go to the diner for breakfast, and then they go to work. Sometimes they have lunch at the chow hall. More often, Takashi has something delivered to his office and they spend that precious hour there instead. 

They come home and they change into their comfy clothes and settle on the couch for a little while. Sometimes there’s already dinner in the crock pot, just waiting to be served up. Sometimes Adam makes something from scratch. Sometimes they just say “fuck it” and have something delivered. 

And then they call Curtis. Takashi explained their little game before the first nightly call, explained that “what are you wearing right now?” is a question that does not call for an honest answer. Adam knows it’s coming and when it does and Takashi delivers the response of the day he still... 

Well, it’s a good thing they’re out on the patio or else he would have sprayed a mouthful of iced tea all over the table. Possibly all over Takashi, too.

The nights are the hardest, though.

Adam is almost always the smallest spoon and Curtis the biggest, with Takashi in the middle. So most nights, after Curtis gives him his usual loose overnight braid, Adam doesn’t get a lot of direct contact with Curtis other than a hand on his hip or shoulder. But with Curtis gone he can feel the empty space behind Takashi like... well, Adam doesn’t personally know what the pain of a phantom limb feels like, but he’s heard enough from Takashi to think it must feel something like this.

He knows Takashi can feel it too, empty air against his back where there should be warmth, and he knows they’re both aching at the thought of Curtis sleeping alone in his cabin. 

It’s even harder the night Adam snaps awake with his head tucked under Takashi’s chin and a scream caught halfway up his throat, with Takashi whispering _ breathe, baby _into the top of his head and stroking his hair back. It’s not as bad as it could have been. Adam actually managed to wake himself up this time. Not quite as soon as he would have liked, but it’s something. Takashi gets up, despite his protests that he’s fine, to make him a cup of chamomile tea. He doesn’t want it, he says. Especially now, when it’s just the two of them and there’s nobody else to keep him company while Takashi is in the kitchen. But he always says he doesn’t want it, and he always ends up drinking it anyway, and it always helps, and Takashi knows it. So he just shuffles into the living room and curls up on the sofa while Takashi puts the kettle on.

It’s a little easier the next night, when Takashi asks Curtis what he’s wearing. He’s wearing a sexy hot dog costume, he says. Which is just, you know... a bun. Adam can _ hear _ the grin and the wink and from there things escalate quickly in all the most entertaining ways, and what follows is almost enough to make Adam forget how much he hates hot dogs. And when he and Takashi finally get off the phone and get cleaned up and put everything back on the bed that belongs there and get everything off the bed that doesn’t belong there (or at least doesn’t belong in a bed loaded out for sleeping), they settle into each others’ arms positively giddy with the knowledge that Curtis is going to replay every second of that performance in his head over and over until he falls asleep. _ If _he sleeps at all tonight.

But that space in the bed behind Takashi is still empty, and it’s still the longest two weeks Adam has had to slog through in years. And when Curtis finally gives them a day and time to pick him up, the three days between that call and the day the _ Atlas _is due back manage to be even longer than that. 

The morning it’s due in, they go to the grocery store for the traditional welcome-home steaks. Adam expects Takashi to just go to the cooler and grab whatever happens to be the right cut that looks decent but no, no, he actually _ goes up to the butcher’s counter and has a live person custom-cut the steaks for him. _ He knows what to ask for. The perfect cut, the perfect thickness for their preferred seared-outside-bloody-inside treatment, the--fucking hell, he knows what _ marbling _means now!? Adam is so flabbergasted that this man who used to burn cornflakes actually knows how to order perfect tailor-made bits of cow for all of them that he doesn’t even put the pieces of what happens next together until it’s far, far too late.

Takashi’s phone rings while he’s talking to the butcher. He unholsters it, glances down at it, grimaces a little, and hands it to Adam. _ Can you get this? _that little grimace says, and Adam does. And immediately kind of wishes he hadn’t.

“Hello, Shiro! I--oh dear, I forgot to check the time again, dreadfully sorry, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Hi, Coran.” Adam clears his throat. “It’s Adam, actually and no, you’re good, we’re up, we’re just... can we call you back a little later? We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“Oh.” Coran sounds a little like he’s just been told Christmas (or whatever equivalent winter holiday Alteans have) has been cancelled this year. “I promise this won’t take but a moment, is there any way at all you could call Shiro and Curtis in?”

Oh God. Adam can count on one hand the number of times Coran has actually meant it when he said _ this won’t take but a moment _ and they really are kind of in the middle of something and besides that... “Well, actually... the thing is, me and Takashi are doing some shopping, and Curtis is out with the _ Atlas _right now but he’ll be home, um... tomorrow night?” Takashi nods and gives him a thumbs-up. A little white lie, but it’ll buy them that first blessed night together again without interruption. It does not occur to Adam until much later that he should have been a little more vague about why Curtis was out of pocket. 

“Ah! Well, then!” That actually seems to perk Coran up, strangely enough. Well, whatever makes him happy. “Terribly sorry to interrupt, like I said this won’t take but a moment, but, well... it can wait, I suppose!”

Whew. Crisis averted. And look. Adam does kind of feel bad about this, he likes Coran, of course he does, but they’re just kind of busy. And they’ll be kind of busy this afternoon. And they’ll be very, _ very _busy tonight but never mind that right now.

They run the groceries home and Takashi does what prep he needs to do on the steaks and Adam does what prep he can do on the sides. When they’ve done all they can do ahead of time they run off to shower and change into their “haven’t seen our husband in two weeks” hot date clothes--Takashi picks the black dress shirt this time, and Adam has to firmly remind himself not to tear it off him yet. The way Takashi chews on his lower lip when he gives Adam’s outfit the once-over suggests he’s having to give himself a similar reminder. By the time they’re dressed and out the door, Takashi is all but bouncing off the walls and Adam can’t help but feel a little giddy himself. Finally. After two long-ass weeks, _ finally _they’ll all be home and together and Adam will get his hair played with before bed and Takashi’s back will be warm and everything will be perfect again.

And then finally, _ finally, _ they’re standing there watching the _ Atlas _ cruise in and settle into its dock, and the span of time between the engines cutting off and ...well, _ anyone _disembarking seems even longer still. 

After what seems like anywhere from an hour to several hundred years, the hatches open and people start streaming out of them. Very few of the uniforms are orange, though, and the ones that _ are _orange aren’t filled with the bridge crew. 

At first, Adam thinks it’s just his own perception of time screwing with him. He’s just anxious to have Curtis home and for the three of them to be together again after these two long weeks. Of course it’s going to feel like forever. He just needs to be patient. That’s all. But he doesn’t remember him or Curtis having to stay on board this long when the _ Atlas _brought him home from Haven... 

“The hell’s taking so long?” Takashi finally mutters. Adam finds this both a little reassuring--he’s _ not _imagining how ridiculously long this is taking--and a lot concerning. “They usually start letting the--”

Takashi’s phone pings in his pocket. So does Adam’s.

It’s a text from Curtis and all it says is: _ HELP!!! _

* * *

The feeling in the pit of his stomach upon getting an all-caps text from his normally exceptionally chill husband, one that says _ HELP _ with not one, not two, but _ three _exclamation points, is not a sensation Shiro would wish on anyone. Oh sure, he’ll laugh about this later, they all will (it takes Curtis a little longer to find the humor on it, and Veronica does not let him hear the end of it for a very, very long time but never mind that) but right now all Shiro can think of is that Curtis is in some kind of dire mortal peril and needs their help. 

Technically, Shiro has no real authority on the _ Atlas _these days. Adam has never had any at all. They’re not even in uniform. But the river of officers pouring out the hatch all stand well aside to let them both through as they make their way upstream as fast as they can to rescue Curtis from--from whatever is happening. 

They almost literally run into Hunk and Shay--they’re coming out of the lift Shiro and Adam are about to get in. Oh, thank God. Someone who might know something. “Hunk! What’s going on?”

“Oh hey, Shiro. Hey, Adam.” That’s not the tone Shiro expects from the chief engineer of a ship whose communications officer is freaking out somewhere. “Not much. What’s going on with you?”

The answer is definitely not on the short list of things Shiro expected to hear. “No, I mean--” He shakes his head. “The bridge--is something wrong up there?”

“Not that I know of?” Hunk shrugs. “I mean. If something was like... on fire or whatever, I’d probably know about that but...” He looks at Shay. Shay just shrugs too.

“I haven’t heard anything either,” she says. “But it _ is _kind of strange that the bridge crew hasn’t been dismissed yet... isn’t it?”

“Huh. Yeah, kinda. Iverson’s usually last off but he totally should have let the rest of them out by now...” Hunk chews that over for a bit. “Well, he’s not yelling at me about explosions up there or anything so... I got nothing. Sorry, Shiro.”

Well, if he doesn’t know he doesn’t know. And if _ he _ doesn’t know... it can’t be _ too _hairy, can it? So that kind of puts Shiro at ease. He sees Adam relax a little too. Whatever Curtis needs rescued from, it’s probably not outright dangerous. Probably. “Thanks anyway,” Shiro says, giving Hunk a friendly clap on the shoulder as he and Adam squeeze into the lift and head for the bridge.

When the door closes, Adam grabs his hand and lets out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he wheezes. “I mean. If the _chief engineer _doesn’t know what’s going on up there it’s probably not super bad_, _but if it’s not bad then why the hell is Curtis begging _us in particular_ to--”

Adam shuts up quickly. There’s a look on his face like he’s just done a particularly unpleasant bit of math.

“Oh fuck,” Adam sighs. 

“What?” Shiro squeezes his hand like he thinks that’s going to wring more details out of him. “‘Oh fuck’ _ what?” _

“At the store,” Adam deadpans. “When Coran called. I told him Curtis was--”

In Adam’s defense, Shiro heard him say that, and he did not put those pieces together. He did not snap to why, exactly, it might not be a great idea to divulge that particular piece of information to the _ Atlas’ _ former helmsman, who still knew exactly how to get hold of a fellow bridge officer in the most direct and embarrassing way possible, even though Shiro himself had, over the last couple of months, had a few passing pangs of dread over _ this exact scenario _\--

“No. No, he’s not--he didn’t--oh _ fuck!” _Shiro sputters, just as the lift door opens on a pack of fresh-faced young junior officers who probably never expected to come face to face with Captain Takashi Shirogane today, much less hear him drop a tactical F-bomb right in front of them.

He’s probably going to hear about this from Iverson later. If what’s happening is what Shiro thinks is happening, it’s probably going to be only one of many things he hears about from Iverson later.

The scene that greets them when Shiro opens the door onto the bridge is so _ normal _at first glance that just for one second he thinks Curtis must have butt-texted them or something. Nothing has exploded. Nothing is on fire. Nobody is running around screaming. Everyone is right where they should be. Iverson in the captain’s chair just like always, Veronica at the sensor console just like always, Curtis at the communications console just like always...

...just like always other than the fact that right now he looks like he wants to curl up in a tiny, tiny ball and roll under his console and stay there forever, and one look up at the main screen tells Shiro why.

Well, again, they’ll all laugh about this someday. Today is not that day. Tomorrow doesn’t look good either. As for Veronica and most of the rest of the bridge crew, they seem to have decided there’s no time like the present. Even Iverson is having a hard time keeping a stiff upper lip.

But right now, Shiro can’t find it in himself to care about that. Curtis is okay. Mortified, but okay. He’s okay and that’s all that really matters and he can’t even bring himself to care what Iverson thinks about him rushing up to pull Curtis out of his seat and throw both arms around him and kiss him all over his face right there on the bridge. Adam doesn’t seem to care either. 

(Actually, no, Shiro knows perfectly well that Adam doesn’t give a fuck what Iverson thinks about anything, and he makes a mental note to maybe keep himself between the two of them. Adam did promise not to throw the first punch again, but, well...)

“I’m sorry,” Curtis whimpers when Shiro lets him come up for air. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out but that was all I could text without--” He shuts up quickly before he incriminates himself or the phone he’s actually not supposed to use on duty any further right there in front of his commanding officer.

“I saw no texting on my bridge,” Iverson says, in the knowing sort of tone that means he did see it but chose to ignore it because a) they were already on the ground and/or b) Curtis had a very good reason to call Shiro and Adam in particular for backup.

Ah. Right. _ The reason. _

Shiro grinds his teeth and looks up at the main screen while Adam takes his turn kissing the life out of their poor mortified husband and sees exactly what he expected to see but hoped he wouldn’t: the Altean Powerpoint presentation of the week, with bonus live narration. “Coran,” he sighs. _“What are you doing!?”_

“Ah! Shiro! Adam! Glad you could join us, we were just discussing... er... I thought the _ Atlas _wasn’t due in until tomorrow?”

Shiro clears his throat, reluctantly lets his husbands go, and gives Iverson a firm pat on the shoulder. “This is going to take a while,” he sighs. “I’ll lock her down for you, you guys can go ahead and clear out.”

Iverson actually looks a little disappointed. “I don’t know, it’s actually starting to get kind of interesting. The rest of you can bail if you want, though.” A couple of bridge officers do just that. Veronica doesn’t.

“What!? No!” she scoffs. “This is _ gold. _ He was just about to tell us all about the _ eleven-course rehearsal dinner! _ Go ahead, Coran! Give us _ aaaaalllllllll _ the deets!"

“Please don’t,” Curtis whimpers.

Iverson stands up and gestures towards the captain’s chair. Shiro just sinks into it, takes off his glasses, and pinches the bridge of his nose as if he really thinks that’s going to ward off both the impending headache and the root cause. 

Might as well get this over with.

* * *

Adam has been through a number of awkward experiences in his life.

He once got his ass very loudly chewed out by an instructor he didn’t know was fluent enough in French to understand whatever snarky thing he mumbled under his breath in class one time. He’s walked in on more people, human and otherwise, making out in less-than-appropriate locations more times than he can count. He’s _ been _walked in on while making out in less-than-appropriate locations a few times, with both Takashi and Curtis. He has exchanged money for goods at an Altean adult novelty store, for God’s sake.

None of it holds a candle to standing here trying to avoid direct eye contact with Iverson and watching Takashi bite his tongue and watching Curtis squirm like he wishes he could just phase through the floor and vanish into the Earth while Coran goes on with his presentation. They are going to have to have some kind but very, very firm words with Coran later, Adam thinks. Maybe Iverson thinks it’s funny this time, but if he makes a habit out of it, especially if he does this while they’re out there in space and not sitting here in the dock... nope. Can’t have that. Definitely need to nip this in the bud.

Also: “won’t take but a moment,” Adam’s _ entire _ass.

Adam is still kind of running on adrenaline sparked by Curtis’ SOS text, but now that’s starting to give way to just plain annoyance. This was not supposed to happen. This was not in their plan for the day. It was not even penciled in the margin of their plan for the day with a question mark in parentheses on the end of it. Their plan was to pick Curtis up, come straight home, and start cooking and snogging. And now... they’re still here. On the bridge of the goddamn _ Atlas. _ At least an hour later. And other than that initial group hug, Adam and Takashi have still not gotten to properly snog the husband they haven’t seen in two weeks and Adam doesn’t know about Takashi but he’s about to just grab Curtis and sit them both down in Takashi’s lap, two thighs no waiting and all of that and to _hell _with whatever Iverson thinks about public displays of affection on his bridge--

Here’s the thing.

At no point in this conversation did _ anyone, _even the peanut gallery (i.e. Veronica), mention transportation.

Later, Adam will rack his brain and fail to come up with one (1) single solitary time he’s ever specifically mentioned needing help with that to Coran. He will ask Takashi, and he will ask Curtis once Curtis is done dying of embarrassment, and they will both tell him the same thing: aside from maybe one passing comment about how much “fun” it’s going to be to pack all these people onto the Lions, they’ve said nothing and they’ve _ asked _for nothing.

But out of the blue, Coran glances at his notes and makes a little “ooh!” noise. “Ah, you know, it’s probably for the best that I caught you on the bridge, Curtis, now I can ask--Captain Iverson, do you know who I’d need to speak to about securing a landing pad at the Garrison?”

“A--” Curtis’ head, up to this point buried securely in his folded arms, snaps up. “A what now?”

“A land... ing... pad?” Coran repeats, slowly, as if he thinks he was just talking too fast and slowing down will magically get all the context across. “It’d need to be a large one, of course--oh! Oh! No, ah... no reason! Asking for... a friend? Oh, you three weren't meant to hear that, just forget I said anything...”

And then, off-screen, there’s the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and Lance shoulders his way into the frame. “You haven’t told them yet!?” And then he does a double-take at what he sees on his end of this conversation. “Oh my God. You didn’t call them on the _ Atlas! _ ...oh my God, you _ did _ call them on the _ Atlas. _ Sorry, guys. I’m so sorry. Me and Merla’ll sit him down later and we’ll ask him not to do that again, okay? Promise. Hey, V.”

“Hey, bro,” Veronica replies with a casual wave.

“Well, I wanted it to be a _ surprise, _” Coran sniffs.

Takashi busts out in incredulous laughter at that and Adam doesn’t blame him, because how the fuck could _ anything _ be a bigger surprise than what they’d already--wait, he needs a _ what? _ “Quick question,” Adam says, hand raised. _ “Why _do you need a big landing pad?”

“You seriously didn’t tell them. _ When were you gonna tell them!?” _ Lance scolds, tapping some stuff on Coran’s tablet.

“Well, they were already planning on bringing all their friends and relatives and so on to the Garrison to make the trip in the Lions, I just thought a big, dramatic reveal would be fun?”

“Seriously? The day they’re supposed to _ leave!? _ So okay, hey, let’s picture this--everyone’s there loading all their stuff on the Lions, everyone’s ready to go, and you thought they’d just... what?” He frowns at Coran’s tablet and taps on some more stuff. “Sit there and wait? For... _ reasons? _ What were you going to do if they’d already bounced?”

“...oh. Hm. You know, I didn’t quite think of that...”

“I know! That’s why I told you to tell them! How do you put this up on the--ugh, never mind, lemme do it like this--” He fiddles with Coran’s tablet some more and then starts poking on his own phone. “Okay, sent. Check it out.”

It takes a few seconds, as intergalactic texts with attachments sometimes do. And then Adam’s phone pings. So does Takashi’s. Curtis probably has his on silent, but he takes it out anyway.

Adam is not sure what to make of the documents Lance just sent them, at first. Some kind of schematics? Something that looks like a marketing brochure or some shit, complete with a group photo of some smiling Alteans in some kind of uniform against a backdrop of blue Altean sky that fades into darkness and stars at the top?

“Okay,” Takashi says, squinting at his phone, “you’re going to have to tell us what we’re looking at here.”

“Kind of looks like an airline ad,” Curtis laughs, holding up his phone with the marketing brochure-looking thing on it. “Even the logo is, uh...” He frowns and looks again. “Wait a minute...”

Adam knows that look. It’s the look Curtis gets when he’s piecing together syllables in a language he just barely knows how to read. 

He knows the look that comes after that one, too. 

“It _ is _an airline ad,” Curtis deadpans. “And that--” He scrolls back up to the schematics. “That’s their flagship. It’s. It’s, uh. Oh my God. Are you seriously--”

“Hi! Yes! Question!” Oh God. That’s Veronica. “Just a ballpark here--how many passengers can you cram into it?”

“‘Cram!?’” Curtis repeats with a puff of a laugh that borders on hysterical. “It’s like--if I’m reading this right we’re not going to have to _ cram _anything--”

“Oh, well--” Coran pulls up what looks like some kind of calculator app and starts tapping away. “Now of course it all depends on what _ kind _of passengers--”

“Humans,” Lance prompts. “Or, well, mostly human-people-sized? Shay’s probably coming, and... Hey, Shiro? Did you invite Slav again? Oh yeah, and Bae Bae--”

“Uh,” is all Takashi can say to that.

“Mostly human people plus Balmeran plus Slav plus Earth dog, right, of course...” Coran goes on calculating. 

“And you’re--” Takashi wheezes out his own borderline-hysterical laugh. “You’re sending it here. To pick us up.”

“Of course!” Coran taps a few more keys, claps his hands together and beams at them. “You and, oh, about a hundred and fifty of your friends and relatives? Give or take a few non-bipedal lifeforms?”

Adam heard it. He heard it, but he doesn’t believe it. The looks on Curtis and Takashi’s faces indicate they also heard but also do not believe it. “A,” Adam chokes out. “A hundred and--”

“Oh--will that be enough? With a couple movements’ notice I’m sure I could requisition something bigger.”

_ “NO!” _ Adam isn’t sure whether he yells that, or Takashi does, or Curtis does, or all three. Iverson turns away quickly, eye squeezed shut, one fist pressed to his mouth. Veronica collapses onto her console, slapping the arm of her chair and cackling and just generally losing her absolute shit over this whole ridiculous situation which, Adam thinks sourly, she _ has _to know damn well is at least partly her fault. “No!” Adam repeats, with what he desperately hopes is his inside voice. “No, oh my God, no, that’s fine, but--”

“Coran!” Curtis shakes his head. “We told you we don’t want you to go to all this trouble!”

“And I told you,” Coran starts, with a wink, “that it’s no trouble at all and we will handle _ everything. _Now then! Where were we... pre-appetizer... fruit tray... flavored ice sculpture... ah! Now, the four cheese courses throughout the meal each symbolize different aspects of...”

Takashi sighs and shoots Iverson a pained glance. “Are you really sure you want to stay for this?”

This time, Iverson doesn’t argue and thank God for that for several reasons, but mainly because Adam isn’t sure how much longer he can stand to be _ this close _to Curtis without touching him. He doesn’t even care that Veronica is still sitting at her console, chin on hands, watching Coran go on about whatever the fuck symbolic difference there is between three sprigs of this green herb on the white cheese in the first cheese course and a dollop of this blue fish roe on the orange cheese in the fourth cheese course like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. 

The second the door shuts Takashi catches Adam’s eye and neither of them has to say a word. Takashi bolts out of the captain’s chair with an offhanded “‘scuse us a sec, Coran.” Adam follows his lead, and Curtis doesn’t need to be encouraged to vacate _ his _chair. 

God, Adam needed this. He needed them all together again, the three of them safe and snug and back in each others’ arms and not having to worry about Iverson giving any of them shit for PDA on the bridge or whatever, and beyond the not-entirely-serious middle finger he extends in Veronica’s general direction when she applauds and wolf-whistles at them he can’t even bring himself to care about the audience.

“This... isn’t exactly the homecoming any of us had in mind, is it?” Curtis laughs into the warm space between their shoulders. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out, he wouldn’t take ‘later’ for an answer and I didn’t know how else to--”

“Aw, Curtiepie.” Takashi just laughs and squishes him in tighter and presses a long solid kiss to the side of his head. One of the really good ones. The kind that goes _ smack. _“Don’t be sorry. We’re just glad you’re home.”

And really, Adam figures, that’s all the words any of them needs to say about this. So instead of talking, he just gives Curtis the welcome-home kiss he’s been daydreaming about for the last two weeks. And then he pulls back to let Takashi do the same. Adam can feel the tension just sort of melt out of Curtis when they do that, and by the time they come up for air he seems a lot less frazzled. The tips of his ears are still kind of warm and purplish, but at this point there could be other reasons for that besides the mortal embarrassment of having his wedding planning activities broadcast to his boss and all of his co-workers.

Curtis clears his throat and puffs out a little laugh. “Yeah. That’s better.”

Takashi plops back down in the captain’s chair and pulls Curtis into his lap, and Adam just sort of drapes himself over both of their shoulders from behind. 

“Okay,” Takashi says. “What did you just say about the fish roe?”

* * *

“Oh wow, it’s got an observation lounge...”

“Is that a _ sit-down galley, _are you shitting me--”

Shiro throws up his hands and sputters out a helpless laugh as the three of them, finally free and _ finally home, _ sit out on the patio with their steaks and gawk at the schematics of the _ Riva II, _ the brand-spanking-new Altean luxury passenger liner Coran absolutely _ insists _on sending out to pick them up. 

Yes, it has a sit-down galley with a full staff of chefs on hand to serve however many full meals worth of real food they’ll need on the way and snacks--also real food--in between. The only food goo dispensers on board are in the escape pods. Yes, it has an observation lounge with a bar (and Shiro makes a mental note to ask if it can have Earth alcohol on hand instead of nunvill, also to gently remind Coran or whoever is in charge of this part of the package about legal drinking ages for human people). It has a zero-G play area so the kids and likely some of the adults can literally bounce off the walls if they want--which Shiro thinks is either going to be a lot of fun or cause a lot of problems or both, depending on how much sugar, caffeine, and/or alcohol gets consumed on this trip. The passenger compartment has roomy, plush seats that recline without invading the personal space of whoever’s behind. If that’s not comfortable enough for napping, it even has a deck of something Curtis translates as ”sleep tubes” which look something like those capsule hotels they have in Japan, a little nook with room for a bed and a curtain or a door for privacy and not much else. It has multiple spacious restrooms, two of them with full showers, with fixtures that can accommodate all the most common configurations of pants parts and full-size sinks with hot and cold running water and dispensers stocked with soap, shampoo, toothpaste, eyestalk moisturizer--you know, all the essential toiletries.

And it’s got plenty of room. Plenty of room for Shiro and Adam and Curtis. Plenty of room for Adam’s parents and aunts and uncles and cousins. Plenty of room for Curtis’ parents and siblings and niblings and so on. Plenty of room for Slav, hell, for the whole _ Atlas _bridge crew if they want to come. Plenty of room for Hunk and Shay and the MFE team and the Holts and their dog. They should probably invite Mark and his family, considering all the off-the-clock legal research he was doing on their behalf; there’s plenty of room for them too. And for pretty much anyone else who might want to come along from Earth and their plus-ones and even some pets if they behave.

There’s plenty of room, Shiro thinks much later that night as he’s lying there in bed snug and warm between both of his husbands for the first time in two weeks, for _ his _ parents. 

He said he wasn’t going to invite them, Shiro thinks, and he doesn’t intend to now. There’s no point. They wouldn’t go if he did. 

Would they? 

Of course not. Okay, sure, they’ve surprised him before, actually showing up at his and Curtis’ wedding against any and all expectation that they’d even acknowledge the announcement he sent them, but... they’re doing this in space_ . _ And sure, his parents are still not being overtly shitty about the polyamory thing. They’ve spoken on the phone twice since that night Shiro told his mom about their new arrangement and both times, the only shit they gave him was the usual “grandkids _ when?“ _ kind. But he knows them. He knows that at best, they’re keeping whatever shitty comments they might want to make to themselves for the sake of holding on to what brittle peace they’ve made with him in the last few years. And there is no way in Hell they are going to want to go to _ space _just to watch him get poly-married in person. They’ll probably just watch the video. Or maybe they won’t. He doesn’t care.

But, Shiro thinks, he should at least send them an announcement.


End file.
